


A Difference Of Time

by Zyzyax



Category: Alex Rider - Anthony Horowitz
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Birth Control, Blood and Gore, Cannibalism, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Crimes & Criminals, Crossdressing, Explosions, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Inappropriate Humor, M/M, Minor Character Death, Organized Crime, Slow Romance, Supernatural Elements, Underage Drinking, Women's Health Issues
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:33:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 66
Words: 409,256
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24096637
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyzyax/pseuds/Zyzyax
Summary: Alex Rider dies and makes a deal to go back and fix everything with a suspicious figure...surprise! It works. Now he is back four years before the day his uncle dies. Can he train and pass as his age without raising suspicion? Good thing keeping up a front is what he was trained for...Note: Rating may increase. Updates are aimed at once a month, and never more than two apart. - After my initial dump posting of all the completed chapters. As of today (5/9/20), there are 58 chapters.
Relationships: John Crawley/Ian Rider, Past Ian Rider/Tulip Jones
Comments: 11
Kudos: 129





	1. Prerequisite Death Chapter

At sixteen years old, Alex was tall and blond with brown eyes that could only be characterized as sad. He was otherwise an attractive, well-built teen, who could easily pass as older. He trudged along in the farmer's market at Rice University, casually scanning the stalls and feeling a bit exposed. He remembered how much could be hidden in broad daylight. Also, the day was clear enough for a good shot with a sniper rifle. He hadn't exactly wanted to travel anyway. Hotels brought back bad memories and the strong urge to check for bugs. The agents he'd watched die or the people who had ignored his wishes again and again came to mind. He continued to scan his surroundings, checking for anything that looked out of place. A remnant of a time he would rather forget. The faint chill of foreboding was his only warning of what would happen next.

* * *

An old lady watched from one of the stalls. It seemed to be an ordinary day, aside from the market itself. She gave the approaching family a one-over. They all seemed ordinary enough. The man was a bit scarred to be sure. The woman seemed anxious, but what mother wasn't? The boy and the girl were both quite attractive, she supposed. Good genes and youth. She shrugged and continued crowd-watching. It was her favorite activity. People were always in such a hurry. She could admit it was nice to be able to just sit down and watch the world. The old woman was long past having much to worry about. It had been almost a full life for her, with a husband and kids and grandchildren. The mourning was bright and the familiar sounds of people buying things at the market washed over her. The sun touched her skin. It was a nice morning. The weather gave no hint of what would happen next.

* * *

Sabina was worried. She knew Alex was still recovering from what MI6 and SCORPIA had done to him. Alex had been simply coasting in school. He had gotten good grades after the first semester but hadn't seemed really alive anymore. The spark was gone from his eyes and sometimes it was like his mind was somewhere else. She watched as he continuously scanned around and even above them, silently taking in the many stalls with fresh bread, fruit, honey, and all kinds of goods. The air smelled like bread and she was visiting all the colleges she wanted to attend as a kind of family road trip, although she still refused to travel at night after the events of a certain New Year's party. God, they had nearly drowned that time. And before that, she'd been kidnapped and her father still had scars from the time they'd been blown up. She still had nightmares over the events on Air Force One and nearly drowning in a lake. She could only imagine what Alex's were like. She wanted to help him, but she wasn't sure how. They were safe now, or they were supposed to be. The family had no warning of what was going to happen.

* * *

Edward Pleasure was worried. He gave Alex his space after what happened in Egypt, but he really wasn't sure how to act around the teen. Alex had been polite, if slightly quiet and withdrawn. Liz wanted to send him to a psychologist, but he wondered how much it would actually help if Alex couldn't talk about what happened. That official secrets act was a pain in the ass. Alex refused to talk to anyone from the government, not that Edward could blame him. There were days he cursed the government and their secrets. Frankly, he was at loss, since he hadn't exactly had his only family murdered in front of him he wasn't sure about anything to do with it. Edward wasn't the best at talking to teens, anyway. He would be the first to admit that it had been a while since he'd been one. He did love Alex as his own and hoped he would be happy and open up to someone, even if it wasn't any of them.

* * *

The shooter was worried. He had decided to do a close-up shot. He had heard what happened the last time someone had tried to snipe the kid, plus the kid was a trained operative. It was bad. The guy had committed suicide, rather than end up in his bosses' hands. Not that the man blamed him. Being a torture expert's plaything was far from fun. He wasn't sure if he could pull this off, but he had to. He could not fail. He began to go very still and imagined the kid as just a pair of lungs connected to a heart, relying on his training. He stepped forward and pulled the trigger of his Glock. Three shots rang out in the open air market as the sun shone down at precisely noon. Head. Left lung. Right lung. He ran. There was no rescue for people who got caught in this business.

* * *

Alex knew something was wrong. Something was _I should never have come here_ wrong. Then, his neck began to prickle. Turning, he saw a gunman with a Glock 20 feet away. Shots rang out and people started screaming. He looked down and saw the red spreading across his chest. He couldn't breathe! He saw Sabina running toward him, but he knew it was too late. I wish this had never happened was his last thought. Any of it. His ribs were shattered and his lungs were filling with blood. A rotten onion-scented voice in his ear whispered, "SCORPIA never forgives and never forgets. Goodnight, _Agent_ Rider".

The world spiraled into red and silver splotches, and as Alex saw the faces of the dead and heard the Pleasures screaming, it went black. The very last conscious thought he had was that the ambulance wouldn't get there in time this time around. Not that they could. These shots, they were fatal. He knew. At least it was quick.


	2. Beyond a death

Alex was not the type to believe in the afterlife. Ian and Jack had not been particularly religious either, but he did know the basics of most common faiths. Both had been and encouraged being accepting of other cultures and people of different beliefs. He was, therefore, surprised to wake up at all after having been shot. He was not in any kind of room he recognized. He moved his hand to his chest and felt that it was completely unscathed. Alex was alone for the moment. There was no furniture and no distinguishing marks whatsoever, just a greyish-white light. There was no furniture, no plants, no people, and no door that he could see. Who the hell made a room with no door?! He first thought was that if this was heaven, it was awfully boring and lonely. Though he could be in purgatory, he supposed. Murdering Julius Greif had definitely been in cold blood, but he had saved millions of people. Did it count for anything? He supposed he would find out. It just didn't seem fair that he had lost everything. If he was honest, he was more than a bit angry at the intelligence forces. Not angry enough to join a terrorist organization, but still angry. He had been a pawn, sacrificed for the greater good. No more. He'd found the courage to refuse only after Jack died. It was too late.

* * *

Death was displeased with the fate of Alex Rider. Gunshots were far too ordinary and cliché after all the things he had survived. Plus, he didn't get to send that Blunt fellow to hell for a number of years...in that universe. He smirked to himself. Well, the kid would want a second chance at saving his dear departed loved ones, wouldn't he? And Fate could just fall off a cliff for all he cared. He did need some entertainment in his long, boring immortal life, right? That's it! The kid gets a second chance; he was the most deserving in a long, long time. Now what age to put him as? Ten-year-olds were appropriately imaginative and only slightly mature. He would just leave that part as a surprise. Besides, making the kid go through puberty again would be amusing, just for the stream of multilingual curses the kid could come up with. Rules? Nah. Who would believe him anyway? Oh well, better go in for the talk (reincarnation back into your own life 101). Yes, that talk IS a thing. Hey, he was bored and his darling coworkers liked their procedures so much that they didn't care if he scribbled a few extra weird ones in there. He doubted they noticed the difference, in truth. None of them had ever been human.

* * *

Alex was very confused by the time a man in a charcoal suit appeared from seemingly nowhere. It rather resembled the one Mrs. Rothman had bought for him when he had joined SCORPIA. The figure looked deader than Blunt had at his uncle's funeral. He had black hair, black eyes, a black suit, and black lips. Alex waited for the figure to speak since he didn't think it would appreciate him asking when the funeral was. "So... No snarky comments?"

The man seemed amused. Alex paused "I was dead. I got shot in the chest, didn't I?"

The figure smirks "Dead, yes, of course. But then, nobody escapes me in the end."

Alex sighs, "What now?"

Death actually smiles with an unholy glee. "You get to choose. You either go on or go back and have a redo."

Alex was instantly suspicious. "Does everyone get this? Who are you?"

The figure sighs. "Well, no. You get it because I like you and I'm bored."

Alex was not reassured. "Really? This could be a trick."

The man sighs. "That would be a couple months brainwashing, you would notice, and we already established your tragic untimely death. Let me make this clear. Me Death. You Person who can go back and fix their life."

Alex groans. At any other time, he might have laughed. Or had a comeback. "Do I get a choice?"

Death mentally groaned. "Yes. But are you really considering the easy way out?"

Alex sighs. "You'll do it then? I get to go back and save Jack?"

Death kept his face blank but internally cheered. "Yes, and I highly recommend you keep this to yourself. You can get sent to an asylum, you know. Also, you may be on the younger side. Good luck."

* * *

Alex was still suspicious when the figure vanished into thin air. Rather reminiscent of SCORPIA stealth training. He closes his eyes and decides that even if it is a trick, he would still like to go back and save Jack. Just as he thinks this, a black vortex appears under him and pulls him into itself. He didn't even have a chance at resisting. He opens his eyes, surprised at the force behind the hole. Were there black holes in the afterlife? Was this even the afterlife? He could be going back, he supposed. The figure didn't seem trustworthy and Alex usually went with his instincts. It had saved him a few times, in the end. The world begins to fade and go black again as his heads sank into the vortex.

* * *

Death was smirking like a homicidal lunatic who just got away with murder. Actually, he'd gotten away with the opposite, but that was beside the point. The kid took the deal. Who wouldn't? Honestly, it was like nobody took mythology seriously anymore. Who had ever gotten a fair deal with Death? Besides, he was going to have an even more interesting life now and more guidance. I might even give him a break and send a specialist or two his way. Alex was going to be so pissed when he woke up. Let's see. I have a burned-out black-ops agent or five, assassins, fanatical fighters in various regions... I am just eager for the amount of chaos and mischief I can send Alex's way. I never said his new life would be intrigue-free, now did I? Plus, he was way too special to have a normal life... The possibilities were just endless. The poor sap would get a few choices…


	3. Oh, Hell

Alex awoke to a bright, sunny mourning. He noticed that he seemed closer to the ground and that the bed seemed larger than he remembers in his bedroom in Chelsea. Wait! Chelsea?! He was with the Pleasures visiting colleges and then- oh. So it was real. He took the time to check over his chest. He was shorter and almost completely unblemished. He went to the bathroom to check his reflection. The dark, serious brown eyes were exactly as he remembered, but his chest was clear of all the scars he had gotten on his missions. Well, shit. How old was he? What was the date? What the hell was he supposed to do?

* * *

He turned to see his back and noticed a black mark on his arm. It was a black poppy that was tattooed on his right shoulder. How patriotic, Alex smirked to himself. Death must have a cruel sense of humor. Then again, in the legends he always did. He checked the calendar to see what the actual date was. He was ten. TEN! Oh hell, what did I get myself into? Great, he should have known better than to deal with Death. But I just had to go bloody do it then, didn't I? As he got dressed, he remembered that he had to act normal for the next few days. At least it was only at school. Jack was in the picture, but he could conceivably be upset about Ian being on a business trip for the next few days... It was a nice Saturday mourning. For once, it was a bright sunny day. The temperature was at the perfect mark between warm and cold (he'd checked).

* * *

First things first. I am **NOT** working for Blunt **ever** again if I can help it. Alex knew that he would need all the help he could get in that department. He also recalled that Ian would be taking him on holiday sometime after the current term. He had been ten so long ago. His memories were hazier then he expected. Unfortunately, the only people who could help him in that department were people in the world he had been hoping to avoid. Cough, people who worked against intelligence agencies, cough. He decided to ignore that situation for the moment, plus he had four years to worry about it and try to prevent his uncle from being killed. The lack of will was kind of dubious at this point. Ian had been prepared for just about everything, but his death. It didn't really add up. Plus, Blunt wasn't exactly known for telling the truth. Alex continued to scan his room, passively listening for steps outside his door. Had the bank suppressed his will? Alex wouldn't put it past them. He sighed. Going at it alone was going to be a gargantuan task.

* * *

He was also considering quietly adding to Ian's household security. It wasn't inconceivable that some enemy of his uncle might consider kidnapping him. I mean really, Ian was MI6's top spy, he had to have enemies of some sort. Alex remembered the incident with the triads and a few others. Sure they'd gotten them to back down...eventually. He also really didn't want to have to explain his new ability to defeat criminals and escape captivity to anyone, least of all someone from his _favorite_ government department. They might get the idea to put him in the field earlier, and wouldn't that be _fun_? There was that. There was also the fact that if someone in SCORPIA managed to hear about his new abilities they wouldn't hesitate to murder Ian and kidnap him. Child assassins were rare and valuable. Right, he would have to be stealthy.

* * *

Alex was hoping Ian would stick to his usual policy of not asking awkward questions and he doubted Jack would think anything was amiss. Then he heard Jack coming up the stairs. He had to struggle against tears. She was alive. He wanted to laugh and hug her, but he knew that she would be suspicious if he did more than usual. She opened the door and smiled softly, the light reflecting off the orange strands of her hair, giving her a soft glow. "Alex, you're up. Breakfast is ready."

She looked younger somehow. Less worried. He smiled "I'll be down in a minute, Jack."

She smiles more broadly this time. "Tom will be over in a few hours for you to play. Don't forget to pick-up afterward."

With that, she left. Alex was smiling for the first time in a few months. Jack was alive. Ian was alive. Nothing else mattered now.


	4. A Sense for Danger

Ian Rider was irritated. He knew Alan Blunt knew full well that his nephew's term ended in a few days and he was getting called in for another mission. While he could take Alex with him, it was dangerous, particularly since Alex's survival training was far from complete and because he had a talent for finding trouble. He had started teaching him at a young age in case his enemies decided to put some effort into tracking him down, **NOT** because he wanted him anywhere near the intelligence world. Seriously, he hated his boss sometimes. He decided to hint at a break. He wanted to take Alex on a trip to work on his Spanish and maybe some mountain biking. Boys like biking, right? Alex seemed to like the holidays well enough, despite the training. Ian was torn between being pleased that his nephew was doing so well and a certain amount of self-loathing for training him in the first place.

* * *

SOUTH AMERICA? Blunt wanted him to go on an investigation in SOUTH AMERICA while bringing his 10-year-old nephew?! The criminal gangs practically rule the poorer parts of some of the countries. It would be a miracle if he didn't get shot or injured. Plus, how was he supposed to explain to Alex if he got injured. There are only so many times you can "fall down the stairs" and stairs don't exactly shoot people. Yes, he could see the conversation now. _Yes, Alex, the stairs shot me as I fell down them. Just ignore the hand-shaped bruises and the blatant lie._ Honestly, you would think the director of Special Ops for MI6 would come up with a better set of excuses. Though, Ian privately suspected that his boss came up with deliberately flawed excuses as a test for people. If you asked too many questions, well...Blunt was always looking for people to recruit. Alex was also observant and curious - not a good combination for staying out of trouble during his investigation. No way he was leaving Alex with a vacation alone with Ms. Starbright. He already did that enough as it was on his business trips. Ian had already resolved to go with Alex, but he had a bad feeling about this entire trip.

* * *

Jack Starbright was concerned and angry. Alex seemed sadder than normal and she really couldn't blame him. Ian Rider was not the most attentive of guardians sometimes and she knew that Alex tried very hard to impress the man. His grades were always exemplary and his joining the soccer team, for one. Not to mention the Karate lessons. She sometimes got angry with her employer because of the fact that he sometimes left Alex with only her for companionship and didn't so much as call on the phone for weeks on end. Not to mention the birthdays he had missed and the school events and…. She also saw that the man supplement Alex's education with activities that seemed almost a little too intense for a child. Honestly, mountain-climbing and white-water rafting and diving were all dangerous, even for adults. She had no idea why Alex would need to know extreme sports or any other skills like it, but the man insisted. What was next? Cliff-diving? She had begun to care for Alex like a sister and hated the loneliness he felt in Ian Rider's absence.

* * *

She wondered about the holidays they took sometimes. They were always so long and so physically demanding. It was a wonder Alex didn't hate the outdoors. Alex seemed more suspicious and was always more observant afterward. Honestly, she didn't know what Ian was trying to turn Alex into, but she was frightened for Alex sometimes. All she could do was keep supporting Alex and hope everything went alright in the end. The other times, he pretty much ignored the fact that his nephew existed. His adorable, blond, ever-so-wonderful nephew. It was awful, in her opinion. She hated feeling this helpless.

* * *

Alex Rider was worried. He had a sense of foreboding for the entire play date with Tom, which had gone well, all things considered. It felt like just before the starts of his missions. He was anxious for Ian's return, now that he knew exactly how dangerous the man's job was. Tom seemed to sense something was off with Alex, but he had known not to press him after Alex mentioned family issues. Tom could relate to not wanting to talk about his family, considering the turmoil his own was going through. His parents still argued ferociously. At least that hadn't changed. Neither had their friendship. There weren't words in the English language to express Alex's relief that he had Tom. Tom would help him. Tom wouldn't ask questions.

* * *

Alex was also, frankly, fed up with school. He had to remember to play nice when most of his classmates had made his life hell after MI6 had ruined his life. Rumors about him being a druggie or a gang member had abounded. A few had stayed loyal, even with their limited knowledge. Even then, it was difficult dealing with children. They all seemed so young and innocent. Then again, they were ten and he had almost been fully grown when he died. The classes, particularly the languages and math, were easy. He also struggled to conceal his new reactions to being approached from behind and his new ability to read moods almost at will (SCORPIA and SCORPIA). He felt he was failing at not being jumpy. Ms. Bedfordshire seemed concerned and he really didn't want his home life investigated. She was the type to call social services if a kid seemed extra jumpy for no apparent reason. At least he didn't have to see the teachers who had failed to notice what was wrong in his life for another few years and it was break time after this week. He wasn't sure how long his facade would hold.

* * *

Death was giddy with joy. Phase One of Operation Alex Rider Redo was about to begin. No, the alliteration was not cheesy or overdone. Not at all. The things he was going to make Alex encounter in South America had him plotting like he had never plotted before. Sending him a little twist to his old life would throw him for a loop and he really wanted to see how Alex acted around some new criminal elements. Normal life? Bwah hah hah. As if. Rider was in for a nasty shock. He would feel sorry for the kid if he wasn't his new entertainment. Plus, let's be real, the kid wouldn't actually be satisfied with a boring normal life. Too bad he had yet to realize it, but that wasn't Death's problem.


	5. And off we go

Ian Rider was glad to be back at home. He took in the neatly kept house and allowed himself a small smile. He admired the living room for a moment longer before taking his suitcase upstairs. He had considered letting Alex finish his school day, but decided that his missing the last half of a day before holidays would not overly impact his education. Nothing was ever scheduled for then before the kids were teenagers because parents tended to take their kids on an early holiday during that last week. Besides he had really missed his adorable blond nephew - not that he would ever say so aloud near another adult. He decided on his method of getting Alex from school and quickly drove over. He was able to slip in and out of the place and leave his note in Alex's locker without any trouble. School security was no match for him. He settled down in the car to wait.

* * *

Alex Rider found the note in his math textbook: _Alex, you have until 12:00 to get out. If you get caught, make it good._

_Ian_

* * *

Alex checked the clock. He had the last ten minutes of class to plan and five after to get out. He decided to go through the not-yet-remodeled-or-burned-down science wing. Suddenly, Alex felt everyone's eyes on him. "The answer is 27, sir."

The man sighs "Yes Alex, but I was going to ask you if you were alright. You seem occupied lately."

Alex bites back a groan "Fine, sir." The bell rings. "Thanks for the concern, but I have to get to class."

Alex takes the opportunity to run for it. "Alex! It's the lunch period for your class!" The man called out, had never used his training to exit through the open window in the empty class next door before, but Alex took a grim sort of pleasure in being able to escape Brooklands as quickly as he had. He decided he actually hated the building's appearance, considering it represented the normal life he wanted and the boredom that came with it. He wondered why there weren't higher rates of crime considering his highlight of the week was cutting class and probably some sort of misdemeanor involving jumping the fence and running across the lawn. He was actually attempting not to laugh as he ran. He hadn't done anything this whimsical in ages and was (ironically enough) going to miss the school assembly on the importance of attending the school that they gave all the kids before the break. Something about parents cutting the week short to take their kids on vacation really pissed off the district or something. Alex really didn't care, since he had all his work for the rest of term turned in and he had learned everything already.

* * *

Alex returned to actively observing his surroundings. Ian was smiling and standing next to the car. He didn't question Alex on his unconventional choice of building exit and instead unlocked the car. "Let's go for ice cream." Alex wondered how he had never spotted the fact that he was entirely different in skill set and outlook from his classmates, even this young, or the fact that he never noticed that Ian kind of sucked at being a responsible adult. I mean realistically, he should be grounded for cutting class and jumping out of second story windows, right? Instead, he was encouraged to be able to exit a building in less than five minutes, cut class on a whim, and completely ignores social norms of any kind minus murder and…murder. It was basically the only crime Ian seemed to frown upon. The man had taught him pick-pocketing "for emergencies" and didn't seem to mind if Alex beat up the school bullies or committed minor acts of arson, so long as he didn't get caught or do serious harm. Alex was willing to bet if he broke into the Tower of London and stole the Crown Jewels the man would find it vaguely amusing, not that he planned to.

* * *

Ian seemed to be staring at him for a minute. "You are awfully quiet, Alex."

Alex remembered then that he used to ask about Ian's "trips". He had refrained from doing so, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to contain himself if Ian lied, and he would know now if the man did so. He was actually kind of angry with the man at the moment, for the lying and for being distant for most of his life. He had noticed that Ian held him at arm's length and everyone else away with a ten-foot pole. He even called Jack "Ms. Starbright." He could sympathize, but he really wanted to be closer to his uncle this time around. He decided to approach the idea on the virtually certain trip they were about to take. Ian always took him on vacation when he showed up, school or no school, mission or no mission (he was pretty sure some of the trips had been missions of some sort). "I missed you."

That, at least, wasn't a lie. He had missed the man when he was gone and when he died in the last life and in this (new?) life. His uncle was looking more intensely at him. Damn it! He wasn't this sentimental last time at ten either. He had forgotten. Ian (never uncle) wasn't really sentimental in public or private that he remembered either. Not since he was very young and he was only really hugged in private. And shit, he really needed to focus on the conversation or Ian would be nosing around his life. Alex wouldn't mind the extra attention from his uncle, but, realistically he wanted to be observed less by trained operatives, not more.

* * *

He decided on the expected "How was the trip?" And added in, "How's it going with the boss, too, his name was Badger or Berk, right?"

Ian looked like he was holding back laughter at that. "His name is Blunt. I think I like your name for him better right now, though."

Alex and Ian were, unknowingly, sharing a private joke. Alex knew full well what Blunt's name was, but couldn't resist a (seemingly innocent) jab at him. "Working you to death is he? Shame on him."

Alex was trying really hard to keep from laughing at his own joke, even if it was morbid considering his last life. Ian actually snorted at that. "You have no idea, Alex."

Alex actually had a really, really good idea.

* * *

For the moment, his uncle seemed reassured. "So really, how was the trip?"

Alex asked. Ian sighed, "Long. Plus, I have to go to a few business meetings when we go on our trip. Sorry, but I will try to make sure you aren't bored, at least."

Alex felt a stab of disappointment, but he knew there was no way he was pretending his uncle was a banker for the next four years. He decided to find a way to let Ian know that the game was at least partially up. It wasn't like he had to specifically tell his uncle that he knew the man's exact profession. He could just point out the obvious holes in his story over the years, break into his office, or 'notice' the bruises that don't fit with a fall down the stairs and then tell the man that he knew he wasn't a banker. It shouldn't be too hard. He turned to Ian as soon as they got home…and felt apprehensive about it. He changed his question at the last minute "How should I pack?"

"For warm weather," Ian stated. "But also take a coat. There may be a few mountains involved."

Alex refrained from stating that there might be a few more mountains than even Ian might know about (metaphorical, of course). He set upstairs to pack.

* * *

Alex noticed that his room had been cleaned by Jack and that she had left a note.

_Alex, your uncle gave me a vacation while you guys are on holiday. Sorry I couldn't say goodbye. Jack_

Alex decided to save the note. He knew he wouldn't have in the past, but he wanted to save every tangible part of Jack he could. Just in case.

* * *

The next morning, Alex got up at sunrise. Surprisingly, he hadn't had a dream. Actually, he wasn't dreaming at all, which was odd, considering the nightmares from the past. He wondered if it was just having Jack and Ian back or if Death had messed with his head. He was also considering getting that stupid black poppy lasered off when he got older. He wanted to punch Death just for that and the vague "you might be a little younger". I mean was the guy _trying_ to be funny? Actually, he was seriously considering this as a trap. Every book that he ever read that had a deal with Death tended to end very badly for the person who had done it and their family and friends if they were particularly unlucky. He wondered why he had been sent back this early. Was it supposed to be extra planning time? Was it a different universe? If it was, what happened to his other ten-year-old consciousness? If not, what would be different this time? Did his choices matter, or would Blunt come for him anyway? He decided to quit before he got a day-long headache and headed down the stairs, still halfway in his own head. When he got downstairs, he realized he had descended soundlessly and almost cursed aloud. He hadn't been that quiet-moving when he was ten last time. Should he go back up the stairs and make noise on the way down or just head to breakfast? He decided to just head to breakfast and hope Ian wasn't up to noticing or up at all or he wouldn't ask questions. He had to hand it to the guy. If there was an award for not asking awkward questions or pressing for information, Ian would be his nominee.

* * *

Unfortunately for him, Ian Rider was both up and completely aware of his surroundings. He started when he saw his nephew enter the kitchen and then greeted him. "Good morning, Alex."

"Morning, Ian."

Darn it. He knew his uncle had noticed his brand new silent walk. He prayed that he didn't walk enough like a Malgasto trainee that Ian would notice. He didn't exactly have a brilliant explanation ready for that or his new knowledge of the said island. There was a heavy silence in the room. Alex tried to alleviate it. "I packed my bag last night."

Ian looked like he appreciated the attempt. "That's good, Alex. We're getting on the plane today."

Alex decided he'd had enough of the charade and took the plunge. "We both know you aren't actually a banker, Ian."

The man's mouth opened slightly and a look of pure fear flicked across his face. "Alex, I -".

"It's OK if you can't tell me everything, but please don't lie to me. I'll know, ok, and I hate it when you do."

The man looks relieved at that. "Have you told Ms. Starbright?"

Alex sighed, "No and no one else."

No one would believe a child anyway, he thought bitterly. He remembered Eagle Strike all too well. He added, "Not like they would believe me, anyway."

Ian started. "I would."

Alex gave him a sharp look. "Is it because it is me or would you listen to any kid?"

Ian just sighed. Alex was now wearing a bitter smile. "I thought so. See what I mean?"

Ian brightened suddenly. Alex, feeling a little weary, decided to ask. "What are you so happy about?"

Ian smiles. "Well, I don't have to lie to my only living family anymore. I can tell you more about how my trips actually go. I have a legitimate reason to tell you to be careful around strangers and I can teach you more blatantly in terms of things that actually relate to the dangers my job can bring you, so you can be safer."

Alex can't resist adding, "And your secret-obsessed boss can go to hell and we can do more things together on the trip."

The man smirks. "There is that, too, but seriously don't tell anyone. You and I could get into a lot of serious trouble. I don't mean suspension at school, Alex."

Alex shivered a little, imagining Blunt sending Crawley after the two of them. He could only imagine what the guy would do to someone who broke the OSA.

* * *

The ride to the airport was made in comfortable silence by both men. Ian split his focus between the road and his nephew. He was a bit ashamed that he hadn't been able to control his reaction enough to be able to deny Alex's suspicions. At the same time, he was relieved. He didn't have to lie and had been very lonely in the past years without John or anyone outside his work knowing what he did. He didn't want to have another person he cared about to lie to and had avoided personal attachments because of it and what happened to his brother. He wondered how he was going to tell Alex about it. His nephew deserved the truth and he didn't care about secrets, since his biggest one was already out of the bag with Alex. Plus, Alex should be told, official secrets or not. He was also unsure of how much he should tell Alex. While he was mature for his age, the truth of it was that the world he occupied was a grim, dark place not meant for children of any kind. He really didn't want the chocolate brown eye of his nephew to take on his colder, darker look any more than they already did. At the same time, he kind of wanted a partner in all of this. Someone who knew. Someone who understood exactly how the missions were and didn't sit behind a desk and send him on them. He really, really wished he had enough morals that he wouldn't even consider potentially allowing his nephew to be his unofficial, unmentioned partner, but he was. He would hate himself in anything happened to Alex because of him, but maybe…. Maybe, he could get the camaraderie he had had with an equal partner before back. When they got to the airport, he noticed Alex stiffen and mentally applauded the extra caution. He decided to keep the gadgets to himself for now. He was also mentally revising the entire trip and lessons he had planned for Alex in the future. Maybe he should enroll Alex in something deadlier than karate or teach him himself? Kids wielding deadly weapons would draw attention to Alex and that was the last thing he wanted. He would personally murder anyone who tried to recruit Alex before and maybe even after he turned 16 or passed his GCSEs. No way would he let Blunt anywhere near his last relative. He had serious doubts that the man possessed anything near a moral compass. If he did, it was fading rather rapidly in his personal opinion. Not to mention terrorists and other groups who were only too happy to employ children if it served their purposes. He went through airport security and boarded the plane, lost in his trains of thought.

* * *

Alex thought his reveal went rather well all things considered. He didn't think Ian would be that afraid for him, but it was nice to see that the man cared for him deeply, even if he didn't really say so. He knew the man was probably revising his lessons during the car and airport scenes and had resolved to keep an eye on their surroundings, since Ian was probably distracted and probably needed to process the new direction their life together and family relationship was taking. He watched Ian go through the entire airport on autopilot. He wondered what his new set of lessons would be like and what exactly Ian had been told to do. He knew exactly what Blunt would tell him in the reverse position and recalled the man's words before the incident with Sarov. "Just a simple cover. Consider it payed vacation." Yeah, sure, and he was a pink elephant. Not to mention, he didn't and hadn't ever been paid by MI6 for any of his work. He was pretty sure the entire setup was really illegal. He had basically been an unpaid child soldier/spy. He had been blackmailed and shot at. Blunt had lied about the dangers of the job and sent him to an actual military training camp. It was definitely illegal, even for Black Ops. If he ever found out when Blunt's birthday and email was, he knew exactly what to send the man: a number to the nearest help group for compulsive liars or the nearest hundred. He sincerely doubted the man would tell the entire truth of anything if his life depended on it. As the plane took off, he couldn't help anticipating trouble for both him and Ian on this next mission, or should he say 'vacation'.


	6. A Buggy Lesson (or two)

The first thing Alex noticed getting off the plane was that Brazil was hot and very, very humid. It was a jungle climate. The second thing he noticed was that Ian seemed to have come to some sort of decision by the end of the flight. As he carried his luggage out through the baggage claim area, he couldn't help but notice the noise of the city and the overwhelming smells and shouts that came with it. A car seemed to have been sent for them by the 'bank'. As Alex got into the car next to Ian, he felt a sense of foreboding, like a sudden chill had come to the jungle. It was gone in the next moment.

* * *

The driver had been very well payed by Royal and General Bank to pick up the manager and his son and take them to the hotel. He thought that the two of them were rather quiet, even for the English. He briefly wondered what kind of kid was that quiet. His own children were loud and would have bounced about the car. He decided that it was none of his business and dropped them off at the hotel, making sure to be careful with the bags. As he drove off, he couldn't quite get the kid's haunted brown eyes out of his head and decided to head for the bar before going home.

* * *

Ian Rider was tired. He knew he had to check the hotel room over before they did anything, however, and was in no way going to slack on safety just because the flight was long and the airport lines were tedious. He decided it was time for a lesson for Alex, to. Everyone should know how to check a hotel room for bugs right? He'd leave the really paranoid stuff for when Alex was older. Ian had also decided to switch the lesson to jungle surveillance with a side of mountain biking. He _fondly_ remembered all the camping disasters that the higher- ups had decided to call team-building exercises. Amateurs. Some of them hadn't even known how to properly do the basics with no supplies on hand. He sometimes wondered how any of them lived as long as they did. It was one of the reasons he had insisted Alex discover things on his own; he had seen what happened to people who relied solely on others while growing up. Self-reliance is an important trait of adulthood.

* * *

Alex began to wonder exactly what he had gotten himself into when Ian grabbed a notebook, went to the bathroom, turned the water on, and gestured for him to come in. When they were inside, he shut the door. Ian wrote out on the notebook.

_We have to check for listening devices a.k.a bugs. Common places include: lamp shades, paintings, and furniture. They can be anywhere, though._

_What do we do with them?_

_Leave them for now. Mark where they are and remember not to have conversations you don't want listened to anywhere near the room, even if you don't find them._

_Where then?_

_Outside in a noisy forest, crowded bar, public area in prearranged code. You'll think of something._

_Why not smash the bugs?_

_It tips 'em off._

_Let's do this, then._

After finding a bug in the lampshade, both of them exchange a look. Alex decided that it was probably the usual paranoia with touristy hotels and covert operations in countries. Ian shrugs and replaces the bug in the lampshade. He writes:

_Looks like audio only._

_Well, that's good. The bathroom stunt would look really suspicious on camera. Act normal?_

_Yes._

"We should get some sleep after we finish with the suitcases, Alex."

"Sure, Ian."

"You'll also have a surprise activity tomorrow; there has been a slight change of plan."

Not like you told me what they were in the first place, was the thought that came into Alex's head. He refrained from commenting. At least the showers were not communal; his friends and some of the SAS had gossiped about some of the terrible hotels they had been to (not to mention the showers at basic training). He was also unsure about how Ian would feel about his brand-new and involuntary body art. He was still pissed about having a flower tattooed to his right upper arm, like a brand. Death hadn't even asked. He supposed it kept him from ignoring his situation and from thinking he had imagined the whole thing, but he wished it was something slightly more masculine. He was also relieved the nightmares hadn't come back, though he thought it was creepy that his head had been messed with. Seriously? The memories should bother him. People he had watched die or accidentally _done in_. He was a little disturbed he no longer felt guilty about anything except the people he cared about getting hurt. Maybe it was the fact that they were alive? Or maybe he now knew that he had no choice in any of it? Either way, no way was he letting Jack, Ian, Tom, or the Pleasures get hurt on his watch. As he towered off, he couldn't help thinking that it would be a long four years. He would have to find ways to tip off MI6 without getting anywhere near them- he wasn't going to let millions of people die because of his own issues with them, after all. He wondered how many times they would go for an anonymous tip before they came looking for a source. He decided not to worry about it for the next few years and go to sleep.

* * *

As Ian Rider prepared for bed, he also examined himself and his life choices. He didn't regret serving his country or the thrill of the assignments he got. He did regret leaving behind his nephew, both physically and emotionally at times. Ian was torn between educating Alex himself and sending him to school with other ordinary children. He supposed he could always change his mind at a later date either way. At the moment, he hoped the lesson tomorrow wasn't going to be too harsh. He knew Alex was already strained and probably not very happy with him at the moment. He wanted to do better now that his nephew kind of knew what he really did for a living. Besides God knows what Alex would get himself into if he wasn't taught to be careful. His last thought was that he really wanted both of them to survive.

* * *

As a matter of fact, a supernatural being _did_ know what Alex was getting himself into, at least he knew what was coming the kid's way. Death hadn't expected the kid would diverge so soon from the last timeline yet. Ultimately, this was about changing. Yes, it would be thrilling to watch, but the idea was that he wouldn't die young. As Death, he could technically make him undying, but otherwise the kid was living and therefore not under his _direct_ domain. He felt one of his perimeter alarms go off. Uh oh. Looks like Fate had found out what he was up to. "Death! ARE YOU KIDDING ME!? YOU BROUGHT SOMEONE BACK FROM THE DEAD, BROKE ONLY EVERY RULE FOR YOU EVER, AND SENT A TEENAGER INTO AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE FOR YOUR OWN SICK AMUSEMENT!"

"But Fate.."

"DON'T BUT FATE ME!THAT POOR KID BETTER HAVE A DECENT LIFE OR I WILL PERSONALLY FIND A WAY TO GET YOU MURDERED."

Death shivered; he knew that Fate was serious. He supposed he'd have to revise his plans for more subtlety. Plus, he felt a little bad about what he had done, but not bad enough that the kid would have a boring life. Who wanted one of those anyway? He would personally bet the kid would be bored within a month of it, although he had been banned from betting by Fate because he had a huge advantage (immortal and semi-omniscient being) and was "sadistic" to losers, apparently. He barely kept from cringing as Fate sent him another irate glare before vanishing. He would just have to be more subtle...and hope Fate didn't find out about what he had planned.

* * *

Alex Rider woke to the sunrise streaming in through the crack in the curtains. He wondered why he had gotten up so early. Wasn't he supposed to be jet-lagged? He decided it was the sunlight and the fact that he had slept at night. He decided to take a closer look at the room. Ian was still sleeping, so he would be very quiet. He took in the old hardwood walls, the green carpet, and the green and gold color scheme. The mini-bar was also hardwood and stocked. The bathroom was older marble. The lamps had probably been in style about fifty years ago and the lights definitely had an old-school set up. He had already memorized the fire escape plan (you can never be too careful, plus he had burned down enough places to be paranoid about fires). He decided to get dressed and go for a run. He wanted to scout the area. He doubted Ian would be up soon, but he wrote a note anyway:

* * *

_Ian, I went out for a run to explore. I should be back in time for breakfast._

_Alex_

Ian Rider woke up because the room was a little too quiet. He sighed and felt a jolt of panic when he realized Alex was gone. What the? He spotted the note and wasn't all that reassured. Going for a run and being back at breakfast time. Could he be any vaguer if he tried? Sure he let Alex have his independence, but he was in a new country. Surely he would have waited? Actually, on all their other trips he had. He wondered why Alex was suddenly independent to a degree even he was startled by. What happened while he was gone? When exactly did Alex decide to quit relying on adults for…everything really? The note was more like one he would get from a colleague. If Blunt had so much as looked sideways at Alex… He didn't want to think about it. He was actually kind of put out because of the note and his boss, but he got dressed and decided to worry about it later. He didn't really want to add strain to Alex and his relationship quite yet. He knew he was already on thin ice because of all the lying he had done for MI6. He decided to head down for breakfast. What was the worst that could happen to Alex in an hour really? He had been taking self-defense lessons and no one would expect a ten-year-old to be able to defend themselves.

* * *

Alex had regretted leaving Ian with only a vague note, but he couldn't really write that he needed to stay fit because he didn't want to be out of breath running from assassin, just in case the plan for a normal life he had from time-travel failed miserably like all his other future plans right? He had also regretted not checking the good areas of the town with the reception. Did he have a sign that said 'come to me I am part of the criminal underworld' on his back in Spanish? The number of times he had be approached by the street criminals could _not_ be the normal amount for dumb wandering tourists or no one would _ever_ travel here. Although, he had accidentally let slip he knew at least a little Spanish- it had been early and he had reacted instinctively. He decided to run back before Ian got too worried. He hoped he didn't get grounded for going on his morning run. That would be irony at its highest, being grounded for being healthy. He decided to shower first, even though he didn't smell that bad because showing up to breakfast after exercising like he had was bound to draw questions. He headed down soon after. As he approached the hotel breakfast area, he spotted Ian. Ian did not look at all happy with his new life choice, which was funny because he had put emphasis on both fitness and independence in his last life. Ian gestured for Alex to sit next to him. To anyone else, he would look like a cheerful parent, but Alex could spot the man's tenseness and the tightness around his eyes that would either be worry, irritation, or a combination of the two. Darn. He had left a note, which was his only defense at this point. He sits down at the table. Sometimes dread came from the smallest of things. Ian sighs. "We'll talk in the room, Alex." They finish breakfast in the most awkward silence since Alex had come back from the dead. And it wasn't like that other breakfast hadn't been pretty awkward. Alex barely managed to keep from fidgeting the whole time. He remembered only then that he hadn't 'explored' places alone until after Ian had shown them to him for at least a few days. He did care about the man's opinion of him, even though he knew he was his own person. He couldn't help but worry as they both went up.

"You left with only a note, Alex. Do you have any idea how I felt when I woke up and you were gone? I was worried. You could have been kidnapped for all I knew."

"I was fine, Ian." Alex decided not to mention the street he had nicknamed Crime Street. It was a more fitting one than it currently had at the moment.

"Fine?! Alex…. I don't really know what to say, but next time you go for a run in a foreign country take me with you the first few times. Okay?" Ian had decided that the conversation was normal enough for the hotel room and that it couldn't wait for too long.

Alex decided telling Ian that he should be more careful himself would not be productive and decided to just let the man gave his way. "Alright, but you may be getting up extra early." He hoped Ian would be put off by this, but knew it was unlikely.

"Well… Good." He had honestly expected more of an argument. He decided to add, "I'm glad you take being fit so seriously." He was trying to bait Alex into telling him what the new exercise was for. He was already the most fit in his grade, probably the school. He knew it was a habit at home as well. Ms. Starbright had told him that. He mentally held back a groan when all he got was: "Being fit is important, Ian." Alex was going to kill him with unspoken questions alone.

* * *

Alex knew full well that there was an unspoken element to Ian's last question. He also knew that a vague answer was best, considering if he answered the unspoken why, there would be more questions. The kind he didn't have answers for. He also didn't want to give anything away and he took a petty degree of satisfaction that he now had Ian more focused on him than the job. The man was either taking a few days to get acclimated or observing him instead of the target. He bet he was never this interesting to the man in the past life. He decided to try to quit blaming this Ian for the other Ian's actions. He was kind of brutal about it sometimes and that he had left Alex with so many questions when he died. Right now though, he was really glad the man didn't ask awkward questions. "So what are we going to do today?"

Ian smirked. "Well, Alex, you are going to get a practical gift from me and we are going to to camp."

Alex barely managed to keep from staring at the man in shock as he handed Alex a knife. Alex knew from his time in SCORPIA that it was a Fairbairn-Sykes, it had been popular with the CIA and SAS. Was his uncle really giving him a deadly weapon? He decided to put it up before his uncle regained his common sense about giving children knives. He was also given a sheath that he could easily conceal on him. He was glad someone took his safety seriously. "So what _exactly_ are we doing?"

Ian was still going along with his plan. He thought the shocked expression was rather hilarious on Alex, but felt better now that he had a weapon. Alex prayed it wasn't some sort of camping exercise. "Camping, of course."

Alex kept back a groan. Ian must have seen his expression, because he reassured Alex it would be fun. "With no gear and only a knife, Ian?"

"It's the best kind of camping Alex."

"Why is that?"

"Because in real life, you don't always carry camping equipment, so only taking a knife makes sense, since you will always have that with you from now on. Come on, it'll be fun Alex."

Famous last words, was the phrase that came to mind. Ian then had paid for the rooms for them to be kept until they left. It was the general way he had his boss set things up after one too many times losing his luggage because he didn't pick it up in time.

* * *

Alex and Ian silently crept through the brush. They failed to notice they were being watched from a distance. The man had been on break when he had recognized both of them. He knew he shouldn't be thinking about Alex, let alone following him on vacation, though if he read the situation right the uncle was actually on assignment and using the trek through the wilderness to get to the remote area he was supposed to find. He had stayed away to keep him safe, but he figured that as long as he was on break (his schedule was flexible) he could follow and make sure that Ian Rider didn't get his nephew killed. He had, after all, a promise he made to himself to keep. Plus, if Rider was involved his employers might not care why he had followed the man. Personally, he knew for a fact that John had been way better than his brother, but he _was_ the top agent for MI6, so he should be competent enough to get important assignments. Also, he was kind of pissed at the man for dragging the kid into the spy world. Children should be at home and school, not going on (he hoped) disguised special ops training in the wilderness. He decided to keep following. He knew he wouldn't be spotted- neither of them was John after all.

* * *

Alex felt like he was being watched. After receiving a crash course from Ian for survival on any terrain, they were off. Ian occasionally pointed things like edible or medicinal plants out, but was silent otherwise. Alex tried to break the occasional stick, but felt like he was failing at looking like a beginner at jungle stealth training. Ian didn't say anything, but after the fourth stick and suspicious look from Ian, Alex hated the noise enough to quit the charade they both knew was a charade. He hated lying, at least that didn't change. Besides, he knew Ian wouldn't pull a Belinda Troy on him. She had really been afraid of him a few minutes after the boat incident and before that she hadn't considered him as a work partner. Ian actually wanted him to be good, unlike the SAS and most, if not all, of his partners (initially) in the field. After the third hour of both of them moving silently, Alex decided to ask. "What is this really about?"

Ian sighs. "I have to find someone's base and try to destroy it".

He left out the part where he was supposed to shoot the guy in charge. He was sure Alex would not go into the actual base and see that part, not to mention he had standards about what kids should be exposed to (they may be low, but they are there). He wasn't going to shoot someone in front of Alex unless it was self-defense. He also noticed that Alex had moved silently in their trek and the complete lack of any complaints. He really hoped that the lack of complaints was because of exercise and not something worse. He decided he would surveil Alex's teachers when he got back. They had been vetted, but it couldn't hurt to be sure. Blunt could keep the country from blowing up or dying in mass droves for a few days without him. The man had to have someone else to send. When there was an hour before dark, he decided to stop at a relatively hospitable set of trees next to the river they had been following. It had a nice overhang and lots of dead wood. He showed Alex how to clear the spot for a campfire and how to make a smoke hood without smothering the fire. Since they had been gathering plant to eat for the day, he had decided to leave the hunting lessons until later, especially since he had only knives and the bullets MI6 had been able to get past airport security, which was very limited. He hadn't even gotten his throwing knives for this mission. He decided to start teaching Alex that and get him a covert set for himself after he had learned it. He would tell Ms. Starbright that they were archery lessons. He hoped Alex would like the brand new 'archery' lessons and set. He was getting seriously paranoid about safety when it came to his nephew. He had a feeling that Alex would need it someday, but he didn't know why. He had definitely not told his boss about what he and his nephew did during holidays and he was not going to; he suspected Blunt had his own dossier on Alex anyway. Profiling relatives, friends, and other people close to spies was standard for MI6 and most other agencies.

* * *

Alex had already asked Ian what he was doing here, but he knew the man had not told him the whole truth. As they boiled their drinking water and washed off the plants they had gotten, cutting off the inedible parts, he wondered exactly what that might be. He already hated the bugs in the jungle and had decided to order massive amounts of bug spray when they got back to England. He had heard it made great poison and blinded people like pepper spray, to, just in case he got attacked at home. He wondered if he could get rosary peas, hot peppers, and ferns with flammable pollen into the garden without Ian figuring out what they were. He was also going to start carrying a lighter- one of the nicer ones that (as a certain book put it) let people know you were up to no good. He was more focused on the explosions and fire anyway. Smithers had once said that he liked his explosions, and he was completely correct. Also, concealed weapons cache(s)? Or visible ones if he could convince Jack they were 'cool traveling souvenirs' instead of dangerous items to be locked away. He didn't think he would have to try hard. Some weapons did make nice (and functional) wall decorations after all. Worst come to worst he could redecorate with heavy ceramics around the house and drop or throw them at uninvited guests. They even had the added benefit of being able to store items temporarily. Having to learn about pottery to have a fake ceramics obsession would be very dull, but far from the worst thing he had ever had to read.

* * *

The watcher was surprised by the adeptness that the boy moved through the jungle. He couldn't help but be impressed at the movement and lack of complaints. He also noticed that the knife was new to the kid. A lack of weapons training? Tsk, tsk. If you drag a kid into this, weapons and hand to hand were practically a survival requirement. At this point, he was debating the merits of taking Alex for himself. He didn't really have the patience or time for children or a family, but an apprentice was…an option he might consider, if the wrong people found out about Alex. MI6 under Blunt was not known for its compassion towards employees. He decided that if Alex was recruited by an organization and not trained properly, he would do the job himself.


	7. Fun in the Jungle

After a few days trekking through the jungle, Ian and Alex both wanted to see a sign of civilization. Fortunately for them, the mission had been prepared by John Crawley, who actually did a fair bit of preparations. Ian had been given the coordinates to a cabin in the woods (several, in fact), a map, and some navigational equipment.

* * *

As they came across the cabin, Alex couldn't help but feel a stab of bitterness. He wondered if all agents got better back-up, actual weapons, and actual mission descriptions or if this was just one of the easier kinds that he hadn't had before. He kept the expression off of his face, at least. That would have been difficult to explain. He knew it would be horribly ironic to have the impulse control needed to avoid MI6 after the organization was through with him. So far, he hadn't had the urge to take down random drug dealers. He hadn't exactly planned on being so bored without Ian, though. He had barely made it seven days without taking an insane risk or doing something to break the monotony. He wondered how much convincing Ian would need to home-school him and take Alex with him on all his 'business trips'. Probably not much. He had insisted on public school, but that had been before Alex had let him know he knew. He would feel bad manipulating the man, but he was starting to hate school with a passion and, frankly, he was lonely enough to not feel terribly guilty about it.

* * *

Alex turned his attention to the cabin. It was made mainly of wood ad looked as though it had been built recently. It reminded Alex of the wood cabins that the school had them stay in when they went to an outdoor camp as a bonding activity before secondary school. It was discrete and minimalistic. It was so far in the jungle there was no need for camouflage because the trees obscured your line of sight. He hoped it had running water. This was starting to resemble the SAS training exercises without the gear and the squad mates. He actually kind of missed the giant, supply-filled backpacks. The soldiers, he didn't miss. It still stung to remember how he had been treated, especially by Wolf. He decided the building didn't look like it would collapse and to follow Ian in.

* * *

Ian sighed when he saw the cabin. It was small and had a running water system he wouldn't count on being clean enough for drinking, but at least he knew for sure he was on the right track. He was actually sure that Alex should have complained at least once during their week-long 'hike'. He would have when he was ten and probably until he was in his twenties. He knew to expect a transmission from his people once he got to the cabin- it had a transmitter that would allow his phone to work. He hoped nothing dangerous would come up. Ian was very concerned about letting Alex come along for this part. He would have left him in the city, but the last time he left Alex alone for more than three days when he was over eight the results had been…inflammatory to say the least. He tried not to laugh as he recalled the day.

* * *

_(Flashback)_

He left Alex alone and there was a shop nearby that was claiming to sell statutes. He and Alex had both noticed that the shop had very low prices and never seemed to sell anything. He had had to go away for a few days and left Alex alone with some money. In retrospect, he should have gotten a babysitter. When he came back, both the hotel and shop had been set on fire (with nobody inside). Alex had been standing outside with a smug expression on his face. Apparently, Alex had discovered that they were money laundering in the shop next door and decided burning it down was the best solution. The gang had thought it was an attack by their rivals and burned down the hotel (which belonged to said rivals) as retribution, resulting in most of the employees fleeing. When he asked what happened, Alex had stated "the employees must have had a burnout". He had promptly burst out laughing before calling in MI6 to investigate and cover up some of that mess. He had not told them that Alex was responsible for it in any way and taken the reprimand of 'excessive' destruction.

_(End flashback)_

* * *

He still thought it was pretty hilarious (Alex, not the gang war). He got the text from Jones a moment later:

_Ahead of schedule. Good Job. Base security of " The General" hasn't changed. Beware! YG was spotted in the area (unconfirmed), most likely post-job. Call for extraction if spotted. DO NOT engage!_

He sent back:

_Copy. Will confirm mission in debrief. Radio silence preferred for cover._

With that, the communication was done. He decided that if he caught a whiff of Gregorovitch in the area for real, then he was going to send Alex home. He was fairly certain the assassin wouldn't hurt him, but everyone else (including Ian) would be fair game. Mainly because Alex looked like a mini-John, but also because there were no contracts on him and from what he remembered Gregorovitch was all business. He put the phone away and decided to unpack before trying to pry open Alex.

* * *

Alex was feeling increasingly paranoid. He knew someone was watching both him and Ian. He had also read the text by staring at the mirror in the sink. YG had to be Yassen. He had mixed feelings regarding the man. On one hand he had saved his life repeatedly and died for him. On the other, they had taken turns killing each other (he more than suspected Yassen was half-assing it, but still), the man had shot Ian, and sent him to SCORPIA. He had probably been trying to help with that last one. To be fair, if it hadn't been for Julia Rothman he might have actually stayed with them and had his education in assassination actually done right. Instead, she had pretty much used him for her own revenge.

* * *

He decided to turn his attention back to the present. He was being followed and Ian had the 'I going to ask you questions' look on his face he had come to recognize from his various missions. Alex suddenly froze for a brief moment. There were only a few people who could track spies and remain out of sight, Yassen had been (maybe) spotted, and someone was following not one, but two Riders. Well, shit. At least he didn't have to wonder what the assassin was up to right now. He now knew exactly who was following him.

* * *

Ian decided to ask when he saw Alex freeze. "What is it?"

"I think we're being followed."

It was Ian's turn to freeze. Gregorovitch wouldn't be _that_ obsessed would he? Alex was _ten_ for God's sake. Ten. "Be extra careful then Alex. Don't leave my side unless I tell you to."

He trusted Alex's instincts. They were right when it came to suspicious people. It was almost creepy how his nephew was better than him at spotting criminals. He had supported a healthy paranoia in Alex just for that. He had secretly run a few people Alex pointed out to him- they all had records or were on a watch list of some sort.

* * *

Alex was just glad somebody believed him for once in his life. He tried not to remember Eagle Strike as a flash of satisfaction washed through him. Then again, Ian had trained him, so it was probably easier for Ian to get it. He sincerely hoped he would not have to go up against Yassen ever, let alone this early being back. Ian was already rechecking for bugs for the fourth time. He wondered if the man was always that meticulous or if he had been bugged in the past. He decided to finish unpacking and boil the water- he didn't trust those pipes.

* * *

The watcher, known to most as Yassen Gregorovitch, was impressed. Apparently, the kid had figured out they were being followed (he read lips- it came in handy). Unfortunately, the temptation to take Alex for himself as a student had just about tripled. He was a selfish man in general, but he would admit that Alex deserved better than a life as his apprentice with SCORPIA. Plus, it was John's son. He knew the kid would be good. Frankly, Alex would make a better spy than Ian Rider could ever hope to be (he might be already). He would be tempted shoot the man if he took Alex anywhere near the assassination that he was about to commit. He would just follow them. Yassen liked knowing things ahead of people and he had an excuse to watch over Alex. It was definitely more about surveillance. He suppressed a sigh, knowing that he was probably lying to himself now. He decided to take one more look before finding a spot to sleep in.

* * *

Alex decided that if Yassen wanted to follow them and sleep in rainy trees, it was just fine with him. He was startled to find out that the man would voluntarily use time to stalk him, instead of taking more lucrative jobs as a successful assassin. Alex knew he wasn't the epitome of mental health, but even he knew creepily following the son of your dead mentor was not a healthy coping mechanism. Then again, spies creepily followed people all the time and called it surveillance. He himself had followed the man several times out of sheer curiosity. He decided that the similarities between him and Yassen were really not something he wanted to dwell on. Alex decided to go to sleep, since he had already had dinner. He still had no dreams.

* * *

Ian Rider was beyond worried. He would bet money that their mysterious follower was Gregorovitch. What the hell he wanted was a mystery. If he was going to kill them, he would have done it by now. If he wanted Alex for himself, Ian would be outclassed. If he wanted information, the man had been trained by Dr. Three. He really didn't want to think about what a man like Yassen Gregorovitch could possibly want with either of them. He also knew better than to contact his bosses. They were not above using him or Alex as bait. No way they were getting near his nephew. He supposed they would just humor the assassin and let him follow them- like they had a choice anyway. He decided to try to sleep. Ian didn't rest very well at all that night.

* * *

Alex, once again, woke up at sunrise. Ian was still sleeping. He decided to forgo the morning run because he knew they would be walking all day. He decided to ponder what Ian wasn't telling him. The text had called whoever they were after "The General". It reminded him of SCORPIA's rule about not calling targets by name. MI6 had always named the people they sent him to investigate. Actually, this seemed more like a Malagasto exercise than a SAS one. Was I really this dim for a week? Alex thought. MI6 had sent his uncle in an assassination mission-he was sure. Alex was also pretty sure whoever it was deserved it, but parts of him still twitched at knowing there was about to be a hit.

* * *

He decided to make breakfast, since he was already up. Alex wondered if the shorter sleep cycle meant something or if it was just because he was ten. He had already put the mission out of his mind. Alex had no idea how to even approach Ian about that part of his job. He wanted to forget he had ever come to the conclusions about this trip. Blunt should just change what he named a trip to pathological trap. If Alex ever had to do a mission for him again, he was taking a fifty caliber- screw Blunt and non-lethal weapons. In Blunt-ese, a nice, simple surveillance mission translated into watch out for the evil megalomaniac who wanted to nuke Europe and stop him.

* * *

Ian Rider woke to the sound of Alex making breakfast and wondered since when had he had the discipline to wake at the crack of dawn every morning. Neither he nor Jack were that strict. He put it on the almost endless list of questions to ask Alex. Ian decided to enjoy having someone actually helpful along on his missions, even if the person was his ten year old nephew. He tried not to be too hard on his co-workers, but they kind of sucked. He would bet money that Alex was better than them at ten then they would ever have a prayer of being. Seriously, they usually were by-the-book, demanded to be told everything, and tried to submit him for psychological evaluation at some point before blowing the operation and getting shot. Comparing them to John was probably unfair, but Tulip had been the last decent person he worked with. Smithers' devices never failed. After the fourth or fifth disaster-he meant partnership- he had told them no more partners. They had let him get away with it, for now.

* * *

He turned his attention back to Alex. "Thank you for making breakfast."

"You are welcome, Ian."

What else could he say? It's really nice that you got up and made breakfast, but I need to ask you tons of awkward questions. He decided to check for bugs again. Five times wasn't too paranoid, right? Alex was giving him a strange look. "I'm going to tell you some things about your parents, Alex. If you have questions, ask after ok?" Ian decided now was a good time as any. He went into it. He talked about how John was an ace agent and soldier in the SAS before. How John went undercover and Helen had gotten pregnant with him. How he had trained assassins and pretended to be one and, finally, that the plane had been blown up and not crashed. He also told Alex that one of the trainees Yassen Gregorovitch had become SCORPIA's top assassin. That and about SCORPIA itself. Afterward, Alex was silent for so long Ian was worried he'd caused Alex to go into shock. But the next question surprised him. "So who betrayed them? Someone had to have."

"No one knows, Alex, but always be on your guard around any of your father's friends."

* * *

That part wasn't true, but Ian Rider didn't know it. Neither was the part about no one knowing about John being undercover, but Ruder didn't know that either. Yassen Gregorovitch wanted to growl at the man and maybe punch him a few times. Had he really just told Alex, in the middle of a sensitive mission, emotionally compromising information? Not to mention that if anyone knew that Alex knew they wouldn't hesitate to have him shot. He was pissed. He was now going to follow them on the mission and pray that incompetent didn't get the only person they both cared about get shot. At least he had the chance to eat and watch when they talked. Alex got up almost as early as he did. He decided that if he ever got the chance to shoot the man that went by Ash for a legitimate reason, he might even do it for free. He decided to concentrate on the two. Yassen had all the time he wanted, since he was now free to dictate his own hours and jobs. He had told his usual employers he was looking into to something that might take a few weeks and not to call him.

* * *

Alex was reeling. Why was Ian telling him this now? Of course, he knew all this and who betrayed his parents, but he wouldn't _say_ that. Ian had probably broken the rules to pieces telling him all this. It was also why he had asked Ian the question. He was hoping the man would be curious enough to figure it out himself. This was rapidly becoming complicated. He suspected that Gregorovitch might not be the only one of the trio to foster borderline obsessive attachments. Ian was treating him like a partner and brother. He personally had jumped out of a window and gotten shot at (among other things) because _Ian never drove without a seatbelt_. Yassen was following them like a stalker (among other future things). They were all stubborn, intelligent, and paid attention to detail. Welcome to the family, he inwardly smirked, where all you need is an unhealthy obsession with the truth and/or a person. Alex decided that his sense of humor was rapidly becoming acidic.

* * *

He turned to the man. "Why did nobody find out?"

"There was an investigation. Nothing stood out for anybody. It eventually got closed because nobody really wanted to think about it for a long time."

"They shouldn't have. If the guy betrayed Mom and Dad, he might do it again".

Once a traitor, always a traitor. Alex was pissed nobody had bothered to look into that heavily. Seriously, _nobody_ had realized Ash was the leak. All it had taken him was one whole mission with the guy. He was not _that_ subtle. Ian sighed. He agreed that it should have been looked into better. Yassen knew for a fact that 'darling' Ash was selling out ASIS to Winston Yu. He hoped the man had had the decency to leave Alex alone. "I'll look into it. I can't promise anything, ok."

"Thank you, Ian."

Yassen didn't normally get emotional enough to wish death on another human being, but he hoped the Australians were fond of shooting traitors. The man had killed John.

* * *

Ian decided that had better get started on their hike. It would be another long day for all of them. He decided then and there that there next trip would be somewhere civilized or at least relatively so. He knew that Alex could survive the jungle just fine. The fact was clearly evidenced by his ease and ability to silently keep up. Ian had decided to focus on civilized environments so far, since Alex would be in mostly cites for his (hopefully normal and vigilant) life. He would also go over the theory of other climates while they walked. He got started. "If and when you get stranded in…"

He figured that it would be enough in a pinch for Alex.

* * *

Yassen actually approved of the curriculum, at least for now. He was familiar with the information, of course. He also thought that teaching Alex to survive in wilderness situations was good because it implied running away as a viable tactic. He had seen many too proud to run die for it. Yassen was also glad that neither of them was noisy; it would be irritating and make them easy to spot. He would watch and see. The base they were referring to would take another week to reach, if there was no trouble.


	8. Trouble in not-so Paradise

Alex had an itchy feeling, like there was going to be major trouble today. The two weeks in the jungle had been going fairly smoothly. Ian had said there was about another two of three days of walking until they got to wherever it was they were supposed to be. The trees seemed normal looking as far as he could tell. He didn't see any motion in the trees, but just because he didn't see it doesn't mean there wasn't something there. After all, he was fairly certain Yassen was still there and he had yet to spot the man. He was used to have the knife in him by now. He knew he would feel it missing- if Ian decided to take it back. Alex hoped he could just keep it on him at all times. Then again, Ian had implied that it was now a permanent wardrobe addition and taught him how to take care of it. He decided he would dwell on it later.

* * *

Ian Rider had noticed that his nephew was extra jumpy today. At least, more jumpy than he usually was since the new version of Alex had appeared. He decided to be on his guard, just in case Alex knew something he didn't (he supposed that Alex knew what the change was, but was still not going to ask). Ian was puzzled on how to deal with his nephew ever since he came back from his last mission. Alex just felt more equal somehow. He was totally going to be around his nephew more, since he had clearly missed something big. Jack Starbright was helpful, but not observant the way he was and would probably not pry too deeply. He supposed it could be the fact that Alex knew he lied, but it felt like something more to Ian.

* * *

When Alex felt a tingling sensation right where he had been set, he decided to hit the deck. He knew he could totally pretend to have tripped later. Just as Ian followed suit, shots rang out through the trees and over their heads. Alex decided his paranoia was completely justified. He was already going over possibilities as he got into a thicker section of the brush and Ian followed. He and his uncle were completely concealed by the time a couple of burly Hispanic men came running through the trees. The guy who appeared to be in charge of the 'merry' band started swearing at another one of the men. Fortunately, Alex and Ian were fluent in Spanish, so he understood them perfectly.

* * *

_"_ _I told you, you f-ing idiot. Nobody is here. Nobody knows about the base. You obviously saw some animal."_

_"_ _But sir, I could swear-"_

_"_ _No buts, get back to work and shut up."_

The other two groan. The captain and 'Jumpy' walk back first.

_"_ _Man, we always get the crazy ones. I swear the general does it on purpose."_

_"_ _Knowing him, he probably does. Not much anyone can do about it though."_

_"_ _We should so get paid extra for putting up with Munez."_

_"_ _You and I get paid enough, besides do you want to ask for a raise?"_

_"_ _Fair point. We should head back before the captain notices we stayed back a bit."_

_"_ _True, he gets grumpy and he is already pissed."_

They both leave and their footsteps fade into the background as they crunch through the jungle.

* * *

Ian got up first. He was glad he copied Alex when he first dropped like a rock. He was still agitated at the fact that they had just been shot at. He noticed Alex was still hidden. "Alex?"

He asked softly. "Yes, Ian?"

He jumped at the equally quiet voice that came from behind him. "Are you alright?"

Alex decided to not be snarky with his concerned uncle. "Fine, Ian. You didn't get shot did you?"

Ian wanted to scream in frustration. He was sincerely fine after _nearly dying from being shot at by mercenaries._ He sounded sincere. Ian could tell if his nephew was outright lying. He should be panicking or going into shock now, though. "No, Alex. I'm fine."

* * *

Ian decided then and there that he was going to teach Alex to shoot the day they got home. He thought that the age restrictions on gun ranges were a load of shit anyway. Not to mention he was looking forward to showing Alex the basement no one but him knew about and the features that his office had. Actually, the house had a few rooms upstairs no one knew about either. He kept weapons, practice ranges, his home security, and a whole bunch of files- just in case. He didn't trust his employers as far as he could throw them (five to ten feet dead weight). He decided to turn back the present and continue on the hike, moving much more carefully than before.

* * *

Alex notice Ian got up before he did. The men could have doubled back and spotted him! He was glad neither of them had gotten shot. He was tense and had a feeling that their troubles were only just beginning. Alex noticed Ian going into a stealthier walk and followed suit. If his uncle had looked back, he would have noticed Alex fading in and out of the shadows, just like a certain assassin. Alex had also resolved to practice his shooting and 'acquire' a gun. He knew that a few gangs nearby boasted of having them. It shouldn't be too hard to confiscate one- what would they do, report him for stealing an illegal firearm? He decided to concentrate on his surroundings and listen for the crunching of patrols.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovitch was furious. He was far too experienced with gunfire to panic at the sound of it. Besides, he was wearing a ballistics vest. He preferred his chest _without_ holes thank you very much. Rider had not only brought his ten year old nephew on a dangerous assassination mission, but also managed to cut through a _warzone_. Not to mention, his nephew had the better reflexes of the two (just where Alex learned to disappear in and out of sight like that, he didn't know). Yassen was contemplating revealing himself to Alex at some point. It wouldn't make a difference because that _moron_ of and uncle of his had already introduced him to and took him into black-ops. Now, Alex would be condemned to have at least half a life in the shadows- more, if he was as curious as he seemed to be. He was going to see this through, no matter how agonizing it was to watch. If Rider got shot or killed due to his own incompetence- well, Alex would need an adult in his life. Yassen figured he couldn't do worse than Ian Rider at parenting/training. How hard would training a kid be?

* * *

Death knew he was in deep shit. Fate was pissed enough to actually monitor the kid he had brought back to life. The kid had also just been shot at. He supposed Fate wouldn't consider the dreamless sleep enough of a boon. Fate would also crucify him if anything happened to the kid's dear loved ones. Not that he had planned for serious harm to either one of them. He was serious about the kid getting to save them; he wasn't a complete bastard, after all. Death didn't think the kid would appreciate advice via dreamland, so he kept away for now. He supposed he could send a dream or two if the kid got off track. He did want Blunt off the map, after all. Off the map in a permanent way.

* * *

Alex was puzzled at Ian's lack of questions. He supposed it was just not the man's habit. He knew the man would want answers, though. Alex figured that Ian would investigate him for a few days before he went back to work- it was what he would do. Alex was wondering what to tell Tom. Tom would want answers at some point, but he didn't want to burden or explain to his friend. Besides, Tom (even with his awful parents) was an innocent- one he would not bring into his world just because he wanted a friend. He wouldn't tell Jack, unless something drastic happened either. He was also sleeping in a tree tonight and would insist his uncle do the same.

* * *

Ian decided that Alex's idea of sleeping in a tree was completely practical, so after they had eaten; they picked one that had sufficient brush to conceal them both. They used the vines (after making sure they weren't poisonous), as a sort of makeshift rope. Alex was uncomfortable with the fact that they were probably near where a Yassen had concealed himself. He figured the man was probably sticking to the trees to stay hidden, at least during night time- no way he would make himself vulnerable by sleeping on the ground, like they had. He thought sleeping near Yassen was asking for trouble. Alex was exhausted, however, and quickly fell asleep.

* * *

Ian had trouble sleeping that night. He felt the guilt from endangering Alex begin to eat at him. He really hadn't thought that Alex would actually _get shot at_. He hoped Alex wasn't permanently traumatized. Strangely, he was glad Alex was there. It was comforting to know that he was with his last relative and he had missed having company on his missions, though only Alex's. His partners had been atrocious. Ian was also troubled by the fact that Alex seemed adept at dodging gunfire and glad that he didn't panic, unlike _some_ people. He winced as he remembered that partner number two (after Jones) had gotten shot after panicking under fire. The guy was permanently injured and now worked some sort of analyst job. He sighed and tried to sleep some more.

* * *

Yassen was, in fact, in the tree across from them. He watched Alex sleep from afar. The boy didn't appear to be suffering too horribly, despite the gunfire. He decided it was best to turn in and ponder his approach when his focus wasn't consumed by being in a warzone in the jungle. Lack of focus got you killed.

* * *

The next morning Alex woke to the disconcerting feeling of being watched, in addition to be in a tree. He decided to look around before climbing down. Alex saw a flash out of the tree across from him. When he looked closer, he recognized the outline of a man in between the leaves. He went very, very still at that. At least, he thought grimly, he knew for a fact that he was being followed. He decided not to do anything at the moment. Alex figured that pushing an assassin out of a tree was a bad idea, even by his standards. He decided not to light a fire, just in case more trigger happy mercenaries were nearby. He decided to get out of the tree to; his muscles weren't used to the strain of hiding in trees, even with the extra conditioning.

* * *

When Ian woke with Alex out of the tree, he felt a stab of panic. He was immediately relieved when he looked down and saw Alex below, carefully checking for anyone nearby. He had probably already eaten, too. Ian decided to quietly descend the tree. He was still opting to investigate Alex's school when he got back. He decided to make their way to the final checkpoint today, in hopes of getting the mission done tomorrow. He was really sick of the jungle.

* * *

Yassen knew Alex had spotted him. He had actually planned for it. He wanted Alex to know they were being watched. Part of him also liked the idea of putting Alex more on edge, so he would be more cautious. It reminded him of the games he had once played as a child. Not that he was sentimental in any way. Sentiment gets you killed. He followed them to what he assumed was the final cabin- even MI6 would not be arrogant enough to put one closer to the base. The man who ran it was dangerous, after all. Yassen knew they were only ordering this assassination because of the CIA. The man had interfered with a weapons shipment meant for a team and MI6 had a better chance at sneaking someone in and had been sought out for a favor to be repaid at a later date. At any rate, the man was going to be shot and the base destroyed. He didn't care either way, of course. If the job had been any tougher, SCORPIA might have been contacted. He figured he would inform them of the base's destruction by Rider as a professional courtesy. He had appearances to maintain. He would leave Alex out of it- there was no need to bring him up.

* * *

Alex Rider had had about all he could take of the jungle. He hoped they had some sort of path out of it that went faster than two weeks of hiking. When they got to the shack (he was not calling _that_ a cabin), he noticed there was a trapdoor. He supposed the outer part was so that no one would want to go in. As they went under the trapdoor, he was relieved at what he found and slightly alarmed.

* * *

The place reminded him entirely too much of the 'bank'. It was a stark grey and almost entirely bare along the hallways. The doors were glass and he could clearly see a bomb detonator, along with what was clearly a 'suitcase'. He decided not to dwell on the fact that Ian was going to deliberately going to blow something up- he had blown up plenty of things in his life. He also decided not to closely look into the fact that his uncle had a firearm. He decided to get some sleep and enjoy the fact that they had a shower.

* * *

Ian Rider was feeling slightly guilty for dragging his nephew for two weeks of jungle hell that most grown men wouldn't survive- even with him. He decided that they would go somewhere nicer for the next vacation. In the meantime, they would be training at home when they got back- Alex was getting weapons training. He decided not to take his nephew when he blew up the base- there was no need for Alex to see _that_ part of his job quite yet. Ian wanted to keep Alex from seeing or causing death as long as possible.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovitch knew that there had to be some sort of underground compound because he had lost sight of Alex when they went in the shack. He knew that Ian Rider would probably succeed in shooting his target and blowing up the base. The only reason he was staying was that if the man somehow failed, Alex would need a way out (preferably in a way that didn't involve the gangs or his uncle's employers). He would ensure that Alex got back safely and then he would go on his next job, hopefully not ever running into Alex on a mission until he was grown- hopefully not ever.

* * *

Ian had stayed up until he knew Alex was asleep. He took his gun, his 'suitcase', and the detonator. Ian didn't really want to let Alex know he was going out. He slipped out under the cover of darkness and let the thoughts of what he had to do take over. First, he went through the fence and onto the property. He disabled the door alarm with a few slices from his knife- identical to the one he gave Alex. The General's office was in the third floor- he liked to work late.

* * *

The General was a careful man. He rarely left the security of his base, especially after the incident with the CIA- they were notorious for having their enemies killed. His soldiers patrolled the area and he was sure nothing less than an army could survive a frontal attack. Unfortunately for him, the forces he had opposed almost never outright attacked- they used subterfuge. The General didn't even think to reach for his gun as he heard the door handle turn.

* * *

Ian Rider knew he'd found the General. The man had just enough time to look shocked before the gun went off three times. Heart. Head. Neck. Ian preferred to triple-cap people whenever possible- it kept them from coming back from the dead. The office was totaled. Blood and gore ran down the walls and the still-warm corpse. On the desk was a rapidly forming pool of blood. Ian grimaced as he walked out- he didn't like it, but it had to be done. He was out before they noticed a thing was wrong.

* * *

By the time Ian got back to the cabin, he noticed that the sun was beginning to rise. He mentally cursed as he remembered Alex's new and shorter sleeping habits. Ian _really_ didn't want to explain why he was covered in blood and ash and had been out all night. Bad enough he had had to use his knife on a guard on the way out. No way would Alex buy that it was animal blood either. When he opened the trapdoor, Alex was standing there waiting for him, a foot lightly tapping the ground. Well, shit. At least Crawley had set up an extraction, because he had a feeling that another two-week hike would be very awkward. The helicopter would arrive in two hours.

* * *

Alex had awoken to Ian being gone. More specifically, he had woken to a large muffled explosion and Ian gone. He would have panicked, except he was pretty much used to the situation by now. Alex had also wanted no part in the assassination, despite being worried for his uncle's health. He knew now all he could do was waiting. He tried being patient, but it was really not a strong suit. Eventually, he was rapping his foot under the trap door. He tried to tell himself that Ian was trained and would be fine- it wasn't helping. Alex kept thinking of how the other agents had been trained and how most of them had died miserably anyway. At the point that Alex was about to go insane, Ian _finally_ came through the trapdoor. He was covered in blood and soot, but Alex couldn't care less. Ian was fine- he let the relief spread through him. He walked up and hugged the man; he didn't care if Ian was covered in cow manure, it was Ian. Living. Breathing. Ian. He politely ignored the man's stunned expression as the embrace was returned. Alex didn't care if the man thought he was insane. Ian was alive, that was what mattered. Besides, he remembered wanting to be held after missions. It was a nice thing to come home to home-ish anyway.

* * *

Ian was shocked. He had no words, although he was getting a warm fuzzy feeling from Alex hugging him. It had probably been years since that had happened. He was covered in blood and soot- shouldn't Alex be running in the opposite direction? He was just glad that Alex didn't realize or didn't give a shit he had just killed someone and blown up a base full of people. Ian supposed he should be troubled by the fact that his nephew didn't care about what he had just done, but he was just glad to have someone at his side again.

* * *

At Ian Rider's return, Yassen Gregorovitch left, knowing that Alex would be safe for now. He had another job and transportation lined up. He vanished into the jungle and slipped down to the nearest water body, a river. He boarded a boat and quietly left South America, a ghost disappearing without a trace. Yassen would keep an eye on Alex every so often. What else were breaks for?


	9. The Way Back

Alex was not an idiot, impulsive yes, idiot no. He knew full well what Ian had done. Surprisingly, he wasn't even upset with the man. Alex decided it was because he cared more about Ian than some random criminal and his minions. He hadn't said anything as Ian went to shower. Alex washed the blood and soot off of him in the sink. Yassen was probably gone now- the feeling of being watched was, plus he wouldn't risk being near that many agents. Alex had gathered from what Ian said that an extraction of some sort was being sent. He was glad they would have to be quiet during the flight and helicopter ride. It would give him time to figure out a subtle way of telling Ian he knew what the man had done and was completely ok with it.

* * *

With both of them finished, the helicopter arrived. Alex knew this version of the trip was divergent from his last timeline. Originally, he had gone nowhere near the jungle. He supposed they would be dropped off as tourists at a helicopter ride checkpoint, stay at their hotels for a night, and be on the next plane back. The man driving the helicopter had been shouting him odd looks and so had the agent, who was definitely a younger Crawley, complete with the same forgettable face. He tried hard not to glare them down. SCORPIA operatives would have known better than to stare. As much as Alex hated to admit it, he did sometimes miss Malagasto. The classes all had a purpose and were generally interesting; the people didn't stare awkwardly; the people in charge didn't care if you maimed someone, so long as you showed up for class. He decided to quit reminiscing before something gave him away.

* * *

John Crawley was puzzled. Ian Rider was usually a rational man, but he had brought his nephew on a dangerous assassination that involved sneaking through a jungle most trained operatives would be shot in. He decided that he was going to closely examine that nephew of his. The kid moved far too quietly for his age, didn't ask one question, and didn't actually speak at all. He was also glaring down the obviously staring pilot and actually managed to look slightly threatening, before an expression of what looked like longing was quickly worn and shed for an emotionless mask. He knew _that_ wasn't developmentally normal, but then that entire family wasn't really normal either. Whatever was going on with those two, he was sure Agent Rider would be handling it fine.

* * *

The helicopter landed at a tourist pad, as Alex expected. The sign read: Dream Tours: Jungle Helicopter Flights. Alex supposed it was probably one of those subcontractors that Jones had mentioned, like where Ian's car went. He hoped that these guys had less sloppy cover up work. On second thought, Blunt could have deliberately arranged things like that on purpose. Alex decided he would probably never know the whole truth about the events around his original recruitment, especially since he was NOT getting recruited this time around. He may never lead a normal life, but he wasn't going to join any organization. He would have to brush up his computer and other skills though. His plan so far involved anonymous emails and training with Ian and by himself- he refused to rely completely on another human being ever again.

* * *

After the helicopter left, Ian decided to have Alex show him the circuit he had run that morning at the hotel. Alex looked almost reluctant for a minute, but soon relented. As they ran towards the hotel, Ian was impressed by the stamina, but not so impressed he failed to notice that the run cut through some of the most dangerous parts of town. Was Alex _trying_ to give him grey hair? When the neighborhood got ridiculously menacing, even by his standards he knew he was going to have _a talk_ with Alex. There was no excuse for going to these kinds of places without him. It was very clear that Alex had little regard for his own safety, considering he knew for a fact Alex could have avoided this neighborhood if he had wanted to. Instead he cut through it.

* * *

Meanwhile, Alex was focused on running and keeping up with Ian. He also knew he should have picked a safer route by himself, but he had been bored and wanted to see all the areas of town (and maybe the opportunity for something interesting if Ian left him behind). Based on his uncle's expression, he was in trouble the minute they got home. Ian wouldn't risk blowing his cover to lecture him on safety, would he? He hoped he would think of something better than the fact he was bored by the time they got home or he would be in hot water.

* * *

Ian Rider was not the kind of man who got really angry, most of the time. Controlling yourself was important in his line of work. Now though, he knew he would have to wait until they got home so he could reprimand Alex appropriately- he wasn't sure what he could really do to punish punish him anyway. Alex didn't really seem to like much of anything anymore, except him, Starbright, and play dates with Harris. He knew for a fact that Tom Harris' parents were entirely unsuitable for raising children and was not about to deny the kid some sort of sanctuary, nor was he about to fire Starbright- he had barely been able to find anyone who was the right mix of competent and oblivious to things they didn't want to see.

* * *

Alex could hardly help the dread that began to creep into his mind. He didn't regret his actions, but he wished that Ian wasn't so put out by them. He was over needing the man's approval, but he still wanted a relationship with him. Alex had also decided to intercept the calls the school sent to the house. He didn't want Ian to find out about anything abnormal with his 'social development'. He had one real friend at school and that was plenty. Alex was sure it was a section on their school reports during primary school at least. He sure as hell didn't want to get sent to therapy with the school counselor. He was sure he couldn't trust one of those after the failure he had gone to as therapy with the Pleasures.

* * *

He decided to keep quiet and enjoy the calm for the coming storm. Alex knew he wasn't going to get away with risk-taking like he had for long. He hoped that Ian wouldn't take it too hard. Alex knew that hanging with Tom was always an option, but it wouldn't be the same as having someone in the know around. When he took in Ian's expression during dinner, Alex decided he was going to use the avoidance method and leave another note in the morning- he would pack tonight.

* * *

Since he finished dinner first, Alex all but ran upstairs. While he was alone, he searched Ian's items for the compartment that would be for storing the knives. The case turned out to look like it was for fancy pens of some sort. When he opened it, there was clearly an area for knives. Alex felt naked without the knife. He had grown used to its weight. He placed the case back where he had found it and smiled. Good old Smithers had never let him down, apparently he was there for a while then. Alex decided to shower and go to bed. He found himself checking his reflection again. The same eyes and the goddamn poppy on his arm. The rest of him looked tan and ridiculously young. He really was ten. Alex, as usual, slept like the dead.

* * *

Ian Rider went upstairs to find his nephew already asleep. He wasn't surprised; after all it had been a long and tiring two weeks. He could also appreciate a good avoidance as well as any spy. Ian was now equally amused and frustrated with his nephew. Should he reward the ability to avoid him like the plague (a good skill for avoiding bosses or unpleasant people in general) or punish the earlier lack of caution? He seriously had no idea how to raise a kid, but he liked to think of Alex as his best accomplishment. Every time Alex managed to pull of things his partners would have failed at, he failed miserably at quashing both the pride and amusement. Alex was pretty much his one attachment in the entire world. Who wouldn't love the child they had raised from the age of one? Ian decide he was getting sentimental in his old age and to go to sleep before he started melting into goo.

* * *

When Ian Rider woke the next morning to an empty hotel room complete with Alex's packed suitcase, he knew that he was going to murder his nephew if he survived that morning run of his. More like morning suicide run, with the part of the town that was clearly owned by cartels. He decided to pack the rest of his things before he went down to breakfast. When he opened the knife case, he noticed Alex had cleaned the knife and replaced it in the case. The gun was disposed of already.

* * *

Ian decided to shave as well. He removed his dark blue button-down and peeled off the ballistics fabric (disguised as an undershirt), making a mental note to find a way to get Alex some, and drew the knife along his face and neck after using the shaving cream. Someday, he would teach Alex to shave like this. He examined his chest and back, checking for bruising and light knife wounds along his upper arms. Even with the scars along his back and chest, he would still be appealing to a good many people. The muscled tightness of his chest would only add to his appeal. He could have been sculpted as an athlete. Not that he cared about attracting people, his primary concern was that all the injuries were primarily cosmetic; scar tissue in the wrong places would restrict his movement. After deciding that he was perfectly fine, he went downstairs for breakfast.

* * *

When Alex Rider left for his run, he felt somewhat guilty for breaking his promise. He passed through the hotel room for one of the final times. He felt the faint urge to check for bugs that he supposed was left over from his past life and Ian's lessons. He took in the curtains that were doubled over the window, walked past a sleeping Ian on the full-size, and left past the bar area that was made of some sort of hardwood. As he closed the door and locked it behind him, he was careful to not make a single sound.

* * *

Having seen the more hazardous parts of the city on his last observatory run, he endeavored to avoid them. He was many things, but suicidal was not very high on the list (despite what everyone else said). Alex simply needed the time alone; he was no longer used to having constant company for days on end (especially the observant kind). He really did like running, though he suspected it was because of some of those missions. Frankly, he wasn't used to being a kid anymore, even at the Pleasures' he had had a high level of personal autonomy. He hoped whatever Ian came up with wasn't too horrible- the man got creative with punishments. Alex completed his circuit and literally walked into his uncle, who was heading back to the breakfast area. The man was freshly shaven and wearing cologne. Aside from the tenseness between his shoulders, you wouldn't be able to tell the man was angry- his face was blank. They both sat at the nearest table.

* * *

"Sorry for running into you, Ian."

Alex could barely keep from cringing at the flash in the man's eyes. Ian's tone was surprisingly neutral. "That wasn't what I was angry about, Alex, which you know full well. You left for a run. You didn't tell me. You didn't even leave a note."

Alex sighed. "I avoided the worst parts of town, this time."

Ian kept his tone low, but practically growled. "That isn't the point, Alex. We'll finish this discussion when we get home."

The silverware of both places was put down with slightly more force than necessary. The cab and plane ride were passed in a tense silence. Both men were furious, but for different reasons. They fumed on the ride home.

* * *

Alex was annoyed with Ian for attempting to take away his freedom to run where he pleased and he wished the man was more cautious. Even now, he could see the man's carelessness leading to his demise. He was angry with Death for sending him back with a sorry excuse for an explanation and a flower tattoo to guide him. His resentment of his classmates practically burned white-hot every time he had to interact with them. Alex was furious at Blunt and SCORPIA for putting him in this position. He was also angry at himself for being unable to go wherever normal dead people went and accepting this deal in the first place. He knew he would never have a normal life, but now he couldn't even have a normal death.

* * *

Ian Rider was equally frustrated with his own position in life. He was afraid for Alex and his new position in life combined with his seeming lack of caution. He was strongly resenting his boss for the man's own callousness and lack of regard for human life, even that of his own agents. Ian had not missed the scrutiny of his fellow agents and was annoyed with them for being unable to withhold their judgement. How he brought up Alex was his business and no one else's. He was angry with himself for not spotting the changes in his nephew and not being able to have a sure decision involving anything with him. He knew he was allowing his emotions to cloud his judgment where Alex was concerned. He hated that he no longer cared what he had to do as long as Alex was safe. Most of all, he knew that one day the house of cards he had built would come crashing down and that it would probably be Alex who had to clean up the mess. The next conversation would not be very pleasant on either end.


	10. A Tense Conversation on All Fronts

Jack Starbright had to say she was relieved when the boys came home. The relief was quickly replaced by worry when she noticed both of them were not speaking to each other. She knew there was an argument about to commence. The family stubbornness on both sides gave her a headache. She could only stay out of it and hope they resolved their problems with each other soon. Jack hoped Alex didn't take this too hard or Ian for that matter- for a man who wasn't around much, he cared an awful lot about his nephew.

* * *

Alex knew he had to stay calm, but it didn't make actually doing it any easier. When he finished unpacking, he heard a knock on the door of his room that he knew from listening to the hallway was Ian. The man walked in a handed him the knife handle-first and closed the door. His uncle's sighed. "Alex, you left the hotel room _without_ asking first, you deliberately went into danger, and you went off _again_ with no adult and _no_ weapon. Tell me one _good_ reason why any of that happened and _I might_ consider not grounding you for the next _three years_." Alex did have good reasons for most of it, but he was stopped when he began to open his mouth. "You are _ten_ , Alex. I _was_ worried. You know about my work for the bank and you don't seem to care _at all_ that I just _killed_ people. The teachers at school are concerned with your home life- yes, I got copies of those calls, by the way. What _is_ going _on_ with you?"

Alex was taken aback by the sheer emotion in the man's outburst. The Ian he knew before wouldn't have said half of those things. At least he kept his voice down; Jack would be worried as it was without the extra knowledge. Alex began; he knew that he couldn't completely lie to the man, so he decided to tell him part of the truth. "From the time I was eight, I knew something was off. I ignored it as long as I could because I _wanted_ to believe you. Then, I _couldn't._ I had to accept the fact that you lied to me for almost _my whole life_. I had to accept that I was _in danger_ because I knew and because of whom I am and _whatever_ it is you are or were _trying_ to turn me into. I have to _lie_ for the rest of my life as it is and I _hate_ lying. I may have you, but that is _when you are around_. What _choice_ did I have, but to become self-reliant? As for the runs, I _wanted_ to see the worst parts of town _in case you had an "accident" and needed rescuing._ I don't scare you _for fun_. _"_

Alex was rather hurt by the implication, not to mention he had had years and multiple missions to let his resentment build. Ian knew the accusations were probably more than fair. He was now feeling pretty guilty; he didn't want Alex to feel abandoned. He also didn't want to leave his nephew hanging ever again. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to feel like I didn't care. The lessons and all of it were so that if you needed to run, you could. My job is dangerous and attachments are even more. I want you to _live_ and when my brother, your father, died I let fear and pain get in the way. The truth is, you are the only person I have left and- and I love you, more than anything."

Ian knew it was true the minute he said it. Maybe it was John's death. Maybe it was Alex. Maybe the job was changing him. He didn't know what had changed his mind, but Britain could burn as long as he had Alex. Alex, despite feeling considerably warmer towards his uncle knew he had to finish now or he wasn't going to. "Ian, I love you too and right now, I'm afraid. Afraid you won't come back. Afraid you'll be injured or worse on that job of yours. I know you can't or won't quit, but- just try not to die, OK?"

He already knew what happened if his uncle did die on assignment. That had been the domino that collapsed his world. It was his worst fear, along with his other friends being targeted. "I realized a long time ago that if you died and Jack died, I wouldn't care what happened to me anymore and that I couldn't take the pain of it." That had been true.

* * *

If the SCORPIA sniper hadn't shot him, he may very well have done it himself. He had been contemplating it since Egypt, since fire had consumed the last person he cared about and his heart along with it. If he concentrated enough, he could still see the flames, feel the heat on his skin, and hear the single shot that rang out from his gun into Julius Grief's head. The pleasure at seeing Razim engulfed in salt, fearing for the first time in his life. The fury at being water boarded by the very agency he had helped twice. Alex Rider had died in Egypt. Something colder had taken his place, something more like Yassen or Ian than himself. He knew now that if someone tried to hurt his family, he would go to the nearest weapons dealer, buy a gun, and use that fancy SCORPIA training to put three bullets in very fatal spots. The organizations he had worked for considered him dangerous and they had been quite right. He returned to the present. Ian was studying him carefully.

* * *

Ian was now feeling worried. He knew it was hypocritical to expect Alex to care less about him than he did Alex, but at the same time he wasn't sure if he should be proud or worried that Alex had his priorities so well thought out. It wasn't the reaction he had been expecting, nor was it really the reaction of a child. Alex acted more like an adult now, very small adult who might still eat ice cream for breakfast. Ian noted the determination and something almost desperate in his expression before Alex was closed off again. He decided to make this productive. "Since we both had a hand in this, you aren't going to be in trouble for a millennium, but since you disregarded your surroundings you get to spend the week with me in public doing a people-watching stint. We both need to brush up on observing our surroundings anyway." Alex could barely suppress a groan. Watching normal people _and_ trained operatives was boring as shit, at the same time it _was_ valuable experience. He decided not to complain; it was the least morally objectionable thing he had been asked to do by anyone in black ops- and wasn't that just sad? Both men decided that the sappy stuff was done for the moment.

* * *

Jack was almost immediately surprised by the lack of yelling. Normally, when they disagreed both Riders were very _vocal_ about said disagreement. She hoped it wasn't something irreversible and permanent- Alex would be devastated, even if the stubborn idiot would never admit it. Ian Rider, she wasn't sure about. The man was damn evasive about _everything._ She sometimes wanted to strangle the man for leaving so often. Didn't he know how much Alex cared about him? Jack had watched him try hard to win the man's approval. In her opinion it was borderline neglect, but Alex had refused outright to consider it. She just tried to be there for him; he was like the adorable little brother she had always wanted. If Ian wasn't down in five minutes, she was going up to check on them. Soon after, the door opened and she heard Ian go to his room. Jack decided to see Alex, now.

* * *

When she got upstairs, she took one look at Alex and wondered what had happened to make him look so haunted. She had worried about that vacation to South America. It was right next to a warzone- the news had been talking about an explosion in some jungle base for days now. The same jungle Alex and Ian had been staying near. Jack hoped Alex had been, far, far away from that nasty explosion. She noticed he was slimmer, in a way that hinted at more physical activity. Honestly, what was going through that uncle of his' head? Alex was fit enough and she would bet some offhand comment of his had led to the new morning exercise routine that reminded her of some sort of military qualifications she had once looked up for a high school project. "IS THAT A KNIFE!?"

She shrieked before she could help herself. Alex quickly grabbed said pointy object and it disappeared somewhere. "Um...no."

Alex mentally cursed. He had been a top operative for MI6 and his lying to Jack was _still_ pointless- she saw right through it, not that he had gotten terribly creative. He had gotten careless, but he was _tired_. Would this day _ever_ end? He was almost seeing double. Jack practically hissed. "Try again, Alex."

Damn, she was scary and he had met crazy megalomaniacs. Alex sighed. "Ian gave it to me. He taught me how to not stab myself and die horribly; it is in a sheath, and it is for self-defense."

Jack managed to look even more terrifying. She was going to _murder_ Ian Rider. Who gave a _ten-year-old_ and fucking _knife_? "OK, Alex. Goodnight, sweetie." He went to sleep.

* * *

She decided to at least be polite. Jack knocked on the door of the office. "Come in, Ms. Starbright."

Ian had heard her outburst. He decided to see how this played out. "Sorry to bother you, but _you gave a ten-year-old_ a knife. What were you thinking? He could easily have died or had an accident or _heaven forbid_ killed someone."

Ian decided to cut her off before she got too wound up. She was genuinely concerned for his nephew, at least. "Alex is very mature for his age, Ms. Starbright. I trust him to handle a weapon responsibly. Furthermore, we can both agree that Alex being able to defend himself from the _many_ dangers of the world is a good thing."

He honestly didn't see the issue here, really. This was _Alex_ they were talking about. "Ian, you can't be serious. He is a _normal_ boy, how much danger could he possibly be in?"

He wanted to laugh; Alex was so much more. Ian sighed. "My job places him in danger as a target."

That was actually true, from a certain point of view- just not the whole truth. "Fine, but Ian?"

"Yes, Ms. Starbright?"

"If he gets hurt, I know who to blame."

Any more than Alex had already been hurt by him, anyway. "Goodnight, Ms. Starbright."

"Good night, Mr. Rider."

She all but stomped from the room. There was no reasoning with _that man_ sometimes.

* * *

Ian was puzzled. He still didn't see the issue. Maybe he should take a look at those childcare books again? Maybe it was an American thing? He knew some of them were more passionate about children not having or having weapons. He decided to keep the firearms training disguised as archery lessons. Honestly, it was a practical gift that would come in handy for Alex's life. He was teaching Alex to use it, so that wouldn't be an issue for long. Ian was sure Alex's natural secrecy and abhorrence of senseless violence would prevent incident where others were concerned. A knife and a gun were practical, useful things in a dangerous world, particularly since he had brought Alex into _his_ arena. He had a responsibility to make sure Alex could survive and _play_ with the best of them. Ian decided to get some sleep before he thought about it too long. It would only give him a headache anyway, trying to understand the point of view of the normal society he left behind long ago. Alex would be prepared for anything, even if it killed him to train his nephew into his own grim worldview.

* * *

The next morning saw Alex up at the crack of dawn for his morning run. He thought it was prudent, considering that people- watching involved a lot of sitting and talking. When he got back, Jack was waiting for him in the kitchen. It didn't look like Ian was up yet. She looked slightly tense, so he decided to ask what was wrong. "Morning, Jack. Is something wrong?"

"Alex, I'm worried about you. You seem…different. Your uncle gave you a knife. Is something going on?"

"Nothing in particular, Jack."

He didn't want to worry her. "Alex, I don't particularly agree with his decision. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

Alex had to keep the fond smile off of his face. "No, thank you, Jack."

She sighed and made him breakfast.

* * *

Jack was trying. She really was. The only thing to do now was hope whatever was going on with those two didn't end badly. She would just keep doing her work and try to be there for Alex. Jack knew there was only so much she could do and frankly she would rather stay here with Alex and help him as best she could. Maybe she could invite Tom over? Alex liked him and if it was a guy thing, then maybe he could talk with his friend.

* * *

Ian Rider came down the stairs to find Alex and Jack eating their breakfast. "Morning, Ms. Starbright, Alex. Go for your morning run already?"

Alex knew the man could totally tell he had already run and showered. "Yes, Ian. When do we head out?"

He hoped it was soon. Jack seemed to tense every time Ian walked into a room. Alex wondered what they were arguing about. "After breakfast."

Jack held back a sigh, so much for that plan. Ian noticed Starbright was still tense about that knife. He put it out of his mind and switched to observing Alex. Alex was doing a wonderful job moving like a normal person; Ian knew he could move much more silently and gracefully when he wanted to, in a way that resembled and dancer's walk. Alex seemed to be eating properly to, with almost surgical precision and good manners even early in the morning. Now he had to decide on a location. The park? He had had enough of the outside wilderness for a while. He decided a shopping street would do- plenty of people and reflective surfaces to check.


	11. Lessons from a "Totally Objective" Teacher

When they left the house in Chelsea, both men noticed they were being tailed almost immediately. Alex nicknamed the men Glasses and Tie Clip. They were both about average height, average build, and wore standard suits. Glasses had distinctive gold-rimmed glasses that gave him away. Tie Clip had only been slightly harder to spot, but his tie clip was really shiny. He and Ian exchanged a look. _Amateurs._ Ian was less than amused at his co-workers following him. He wondered what they wanted _this time_. Ian sincerely hoped they weren't trying to be particularly stealthy because if they were he would (metaphorically) weep for the future of MI6.

* * *

Alex took a minute to observe the street around them. It was early, so some of the shops were still closed. The right side of the street held a women's clothing store, a grocery store, and a large supermarket. The alley behind was the beginning of a residential area and a woman was on a balcony (over) watering her plants with a bucket. Alex made a mental note not to walk under any of the plants. The left side held a closed cafe; it looked like the owner was in- there was a car nearby. It also held a store for good suits, some sort of fad teen store, and a Mark & Spencer's. Only a few people were milling about. There was a woman with brown hair and a stroller who looked really tired. The two men in suits who appeared to be following them also stuck out. The was a harassed looking redhead man who appeared to be going into a side street and a blond woman who looked like she had smelled something bad. Alex turned his attention to the men in the suits.

* * *

Alex was fairly certain they were actually MI6 agents. They reminded him of the bodyguards from the funeral that hopefully wouldn't be a repeat experience anytime soon. He wondered what Ian was going to do about it because he was _not_ going to be followed by agents for a whole day. Ian must have caught his expression because the man suddenly smirked. "Pop quiz time, Alex. Who are these guys and how do we ditch them?"

Alex couldn't keep an almost identical expression off his own face. "First, we take pictures for our dumb-ass tails album."

Ian bit back a laugh. "The what?"

"The album, Ian, keep up. We are going to start one for one of those family bonding activities people keep talking about."

Ian snorted. "Then what?"

Alex couldn't hold back the shit-eating grin. "Then we decide that since nice people from some sort of government place decided to tail us, we go through a women's underclothing store, into the alley behind and make sure to time it so they get soaked by the lady watering her plants from above the alley and run away as fast as we can."

* * *

Ian liked that plan, perhaps a little too much. It reminded him of something John might have done before his deep cover days. The two of them headed straight for the women's clothing store. The look on Tie Clip and Glasses' faces were priceless, but they followed in a stunned sort of way. They both went straight for the alley, and were followed. Then Alex ran ahead of the bucket that was, sure enough, about to dump a lot of filthy plant water. The two of them looked almost triumphant when they were suddenly drenched by water that went straight through the pot and on top of both of them. The soil must have been soaked already. While they were distracted, the two spies took off down the street, laughing as they ran.

* * *

Ian smiled ruefully a few minutes later; he was going to pay for that later. It was the most fun he had had in ages. Now back to their original lesson. "On the street we were in, how many people were eating in the cafe we passed?"

Alex didn't have to think too hard about it. "None, it was closed. There was only one car parked there."

Ian decided to head for his original destination for Alex's lesson- cafes always had interesting enough people at this time of the morning in them. He knew Alex already knew all of this- he had taught him it years ago. The point of this was to make him use the observation skills and hopefully learn his lesson about ignoring them and going into danger any way. Not that he planned for anything violent to happen.

* * *

Meanwhile…

Tulip Jones knew full well she shouldn't be amused by Ian Rider's antics, but she was. Frankly, it was all she could do to keep from laughing (and her face blank) when the two (still soaked) agents had reported back to her. Honestly, they had been warned that Agent Rider was not an easy mark, especially when he was with his nephew. She had been concerned when he broke his habit of in-person debriefing and opted to actually fill out paperwork for once in his life. The text he had sent later had not helped either. It had been a picture of the two getting soaked with muddy water with the caption: Amateurs. She supposed he might want a few days with his nephew. He had also brought said nephew, Alex, along for a highly sensitive operation for a vacation. Ian _hated_ bringing people along; it was odd that he wouldn't mind a child, who should have been even more difficult, but refuse a partner. Honestly, she supposed a few months off and a psych evaluation wouldn't be out of line. When it came to top agents, they had kind of slacked in that department in the past. Plus, he wasn't normally that vindictive about losing his tails- he normally just ditched them. Tulip Jones didn't like changes in people's habits. It meant trouble, normally.

* * *

Alan Blunt had signed off on the surveillance of Ian Rider; he had refused a debrief in-person and had opted to fill out _paperwork. Nobody_ , especially not _Ian Rider_ , liked paperwork. He wondered what the man had been thinking, bringing his nephew long. Hadn't he hired a babysitter? Sadly, the incoming psych evaluation would probably yield very little. The man tended to consider them a form of interrogation and generally didn't respond well to them. Rider liked his privacy, apparently. He supposed he could have an agency work party and make everyone bring their kids as a way of preventing violence, though he didn't think it was _that_ tense around the office- there was a reason spies don't have parties, EVER. Normal workplaces had that right? Plus, it would be nice to see different kind of interaction than the usual (yes, sir or fuck you, Blunt) he normally was limited to. Although, he would probably have Tulip alert everyone so she could have practice dealing with complaints- it was a good skill for the head of operations that he hoped she would replace him as. He was pretty sure that he and Rider were the only senior employees with family (left). Some of the junior agents had kids or should by now.

* * *

Tulip Jones had no idea why Alan Blunt thought an office party would end well but she was going along with his plan. She sighed as she sent the round of emails out and privately hoped that a many employees thought of excuses a possible. She had a vague feeling that between Smithers, Rider(s), and Crawley shit would hit the fan (she had _no idea_ why, they _only liked causing as much chaos a possible_ ). Tulip just hoped she had an office to come back to the next day. Of course, Blunt would figure no one had a life and only send emails three days in advance. There was a good chance fewer people would come, but that was probably for the best (no need to permanently traumatize everyone at once). She had even made sure to mention the party was voluntary.

* * *

Ian Rider was enjoying his nephew's quips more than he would ever admit. He barely resisted a smile. "What about that one, Alex?"

Alex mentally groaned at the next person who entered the cafe. Would this _ever_ end? "Middle-aged and overweight. Mid-level businessman. Has a ring tan line on his hand. The only danger he is would be if he had a heart attack, fell on a person, and suffocated them."

Alex mentally added: he could be wearing a fat suit and be an agent in disguise, but I doubt it since he is downing drinks at that rate. He was reminded of the crane operator at a certain car lot. They had been doing this for days. Ian smirked. "Such rudeness, Alex, wherever did you learn these things?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I learned from the best, Ian."

"Riiight."

Judging from the man's expression he was going to be paying for that comment shortly. "How do you feel about office parties, Alex?"

"Just fine."

He pulled off that lie easily. In reality, he was about to panic- what the hell was Blunt playing at?! "Well, then, you won't mind coming to one of mine."

Shit. _Shit._ "Ok, Ian."

"Well, it is time to go home and plan for it."

What the hell? MI6 _never_ had office parties

* * *

They both took a cab home. Ian was irritated by his boss' insistence on a psych evaluation. Maybe it was petty, but he wanted that part to go a bit more _explosive_ than the original plan. Time for a crash course in IEDs (it was a wonderful educational opportunity!) for Alex. They wouldn't be doing any serious harm, anyway. The ones they were detonating, at least. He decided to visit the cleaning closet in advance. Making toxic gas was disturbingly easy with some of the chemicals in a standard one. Alex may as well learn the theory for the more dangerous ones while they were at it and Starbright was out grocery shopping. Ian had a sinking feeling she might protest another one of his entirely practical lessons.

* * *

John Crawley was rather shocked at Alan Blunt's idea of an office party. Truth be told, he wasn't sure how to get out of it because he had no personal life to use as an excuse. He had a vague feeling that it wasn't going to end well, so he packed standard equipment set for his briefcase. With high profile targets in one place, it was best to be prepared. He also wasn't sure how to handle Rider junior. That kid was weird and really quiet. Crawley wasn't sure how Ian would take it if he talked with the kid- the guy was kind of possessive of his only relative, although you couldn't really blame him. He had a soft spot for that family.

* * *

Smithers was delighted at the idea of an office party. His nephew wouldn't be able to attend, but he was kind of a sucker for kids in general. If he could justify the budget expenditures, he would totally make kid gadgets. Unfortunately, MI6 had a limited budget. He wondered if he could get Alex to try a few games he had made in his spare time. That would be fun to see. He would really enjoy that party. He decided to take his weapons and ID, just in case. He wanted to meet Alex. There were three people terrorists would love to kill in the same place.

* * *

Tulip Jones was relieved when she saw the very short guest list for the "party". It was Smithers, Crawley, both Riders, herself, Alan, and two junior agents (Taylor and Brown) who hadn't been smart enough to find excuses. She had pre-scheduled therapy for both of them. For some reason, she thought they might need it. She decided that the extra fireproofing on her office was totally justified. Jones figured if Blunt wasn't smart enough to fireproof his office, he deserved whatever happened to it. Plus, it was a wonderful revenge for the amount of complaints and complete bullshit excuses she had to go through for this. The paperwork was astronomical for her job as it was, thank you very much.

* * *

A few hours and many concealed mini-explosives later, Ian and Alex had both changed into their suits. Alex took a moment to covertly examine Ian. The man seemed perfectly calm and cheerful. Ian was actually good-looking, especially in his suit. Alex decided that he would torment his uncle back about the stares he got from women in the streets. Alex was also dressed in a suit and quite happy for any excuse he had to set off explosives at the 'bank'. He was looking forward to tormenting the others agents, even if they hadn't done anything in this timeline to him- he was just a little petty; it wasn't like he was wishing death upon them. Alex decided that wreaking as much havoc as possible would decrease his chance of being recruited, to. Ian was smirking just a little bit; he enjoyed a good bit of chaos as much as Alex did. "Ready, Alex?"

"Yep, armed and dangerous."

Ian laughed at the mock serious expression he put in his face. It was a warm, light sound. They got in the car.

* * *

Alex held his breath as he entered the headquarters of MI6. He knew better than to touch his knife for reassurance, but he was still tempted- it would give away the knife's position. He had a second one up his other sleeve. The scanners were in the elevator, so unless he drew them, nobody would know that they were there. He hoped he would not have a reason to. Alex was already tense, even before he noticed that the only people who had showed up were them, Jones, Blunt, Crawley, Smithers, and Glasses and Tie Clip. Oh, joy; he was _overwhelmed_ by warm _happy_ vibes. Actually, he wasn't sure he would be able to resist stabbing Blunt, but the explosives would be a wonderful distraction. He loved his uncle's sense of 'humor'- Alex personally suspected a revenge plot.

* * *

He remembered the lesson with a faint smile, pushing back his nausea at seeing the people who had ruined his life. His uncle's voice was repeating in his head. "Now Alex, where do all the best people go for a bomb?"

Alex had felt snarky. "The local arms dealer?"

Ian had smirked. "For amateurs, Alex. No, _you_ will go to the cleaning closet, one of people's greatest weapons."

Alex tried for a nervous charming smile as he edged closer to them, at least he had Ian with him. Their first meetings went eerily like the graveyard. "Hi, you must be Alex, your uncle mentions you often. I'm Alan Blunt."

Alex's mouth had always run before his common sense. "That's funny, Ian never mentions you."

That got him Ian's elbow in his kidney. Alex flashed his most innocent looking smile, which would fool absolutely no one by the end of the night. They moved on to Mrs. Jones. "Hello, Alex. I'm Mrs. Jones. I'm Mr. Blunt's second in command. That one on the right is John Crawley with acquisitions. The two by the table are Mr. Taylor and Mr. Brown. The man talking to Crawley is Smithers. It's nice to meet you."

Alex reflected that her smile seemed genuine, though he couldn't be sure. "Nice to meet you to, Mrs. Jones."

He did his best to sound sincere. Ian didn't elbow him, so he knew he did a passable job at not sounding sarcastic. Blunt looked as dead as ever, with the grey suit, grey skin, grey eyes, and grey lips. Mrs. Jones seemed to be awkwardly hovering, so he decided to cut her some slack. "Mrs. Jones. What do you think of the riots in France? Personally, the political situation seems to be permanently unstable, even without the formation of The Jungle and recent immigration issues."

The adults all stared at him. "What? I have a school project coming up."

He hears Ian snort into his champagne; it sounded suspiciously like bullshit, but Alex let it go. Mrs. Jones seemed to be wearing a wide smile. "Well, Alex, why don't we go in a tour and talk on the way?"

Mrs. Jones went on a roll. Alex already knew most of the information, but it was a good way of scoping someone out. Also, he needed her distracted so he could place the prank items. He discreetly slides them into place while Jones goes on about security issues involved with immigration. He even manages to get one under the door of Blunt's office. Alex was carrying a variation of a stink bomb that would make the entire office reek of skunk for weeks. It wouldn't set anything large on fire, but it might singe a few papers. Jones' office was fireproofed or it was being remodeled and he was unable to get one in. Oh, well. She seemed to be winding down by the time she finished her mini-tour. He hadn't really decided to go along, but Ian had seemed to be urging him to and he was glad for the excuse to go in the hallways. He doubted even he could sneak off in a room full of spies. Alex decided to give her a run for her money. "What about the obvious human rights violations and people's' vulnerability to sex trafficking, aren't you concerned ethically speaking?"

He knew governments had to at least pretend to care about that sort of thing to prevent riots. When he saw the gleam of anticipation in Mrs. Jones eye, he knew he probably shouldn't have challenged her to a political debate. Unknown to him was the fact that she had graduated at the top of every class, but geopolitics had been her absolute favorite. "Some would argue that it is a small price to pay for the stringent background checks and security that they provide."

Alex was actually enjoying the private maneuvering in the conversation. "I would argue that people who trade human rights for the illusion of security deserve neither the rights nor the security. The good of the many may be a goal for governments, but that doesn't excuse them from their duty to protect the rights of the few."

He privately detested the greater good that had gotten him sent on those missions. Mrs. Jones was enjoying the debate and lecture far too much. "So you would potentially endanger millions for one life?"

Alex tried not to smirk. "A logical fallacy considering security is always by degree, Mrs. Jones, but to answer your question anyway, I consider some lives worth more than others. The choice between seven strangers and one family member would never be clear for some, now wouldn't it?"

Mrs. Jones had sacrificed her children for the greater good. "The seven people, Mr. Rider."

Perhaps it was a bit sharper than she intended. Alex retorted. "I would choose the family member, Mrs. Jones."

He couldn't stop his eyes from blazing and his tone dropping to ice. "We will have to agree to disagree on that point then, Mr. Rider."

She stated sharply. Alex figured he may have accidentally hit a sore point. "The answer has the same fallacy as the question, Mr. Rider. How many people would you sacrifice for the one that means the most to you?"

Jones knew she was being deliberately sharp now, but she still ached because of her children and she had a point to prove. Alex considered the question. He couldn't really tell her England could burn because he knew he wouldn't be able to do that, either. "I can only definitively say not millions Mrs. Jones."

She felt relieved for a reason she couldn't put her finger on. They were back at the party and Ian Rider was giving both of them odd looks.

* * *

Ian was puzzled. As far as he knew, Alex had no interest in politics. The project for school was a complete lie. He could only guess at whatever game his nephew was playing. Ian knew Alex would find a worthy opponent in the deputy head of operations of MI6. Tulip Jones was intelligent and more than competent, but Alex had a certain panache he could appreciate more. He had full confidence in Alex's ability to get the modified explosives past his boss. Ian knew better than to grin at the all clear sign his nephew gave him. Wait. What the hell was that kind of question? What was Jones playing at? Alex was ten and not in charge of anything. _How many people would you sacrifice for someone you care about_? _Really, Jones?_ He felt more pleased than he should at Alex's answer. _Not millions._ He was so outing her to his shrink, at least the abominably cheerful man would be good for something. That had to be crossing some sort of line. He decided to go back to the full (and rather dull) conversation with Crawley before he had a yelling match with Jones.

* * *

Tulip Jones had forgotten she was talking to a ten-year-old until Ian Rider's glare was sent in her direction. Oops. She hadn't meant to get that sharp with him, but the attitude was one she found frustrating. It had led to more than a few leaks that had cost an untold number of lives. He was just far too intelligent for that point of view. She made a mental note to try to change his mind. Plus, she missed having political debates with someone and having a devil's advocate was always better. Jones decided to try to meet him in a nice public area- no need to be accused of impropriety by a certain overprotective uncle. Alex should really stop by more often. Maybe someday she could work with him- after he corrected those horrible political views of his, but then this wasn't the sort of place that cared about employees' political beliefs as long as they did their job. He was certainly intelligent enough for intelligence work. If Alex had been eighteen and out of school, she might have hired him on the spot. She decided to migrate over to Alan before she started on about politics again. Alex was already heading towards Smithers.

* * *

Alex had decided to speak with Smithers- he was genuinely fond of the man, despite the fat suit deception. He made a beeline for the man, slightly desperate to escape the more than slightly intense conversation with Jones. It was odd, since he had never seen that much emotion on her before. Alex decided to ponder it later. This entire party had never happened in the last timeline. He wondered what had changed. The man did look as happy to meet him as he had been in the past life. "Mr. Smithers, I'm Alex."

He decided to go with polite, just in case. "Pleasure to meet you, m'boy. It's just Smithers. I have a nephew your age and he is simply delightful. Do you want any of the pastries? They are quite good."

Alex smiled slightly. "No, thank you, Smithers. What do you do for the bank?"

Smithers seemed to barely be able to contain himself. "I'm with research and development and integrated technology. You don't want to hear about such dull things, though."

Alex supposed he wasn't even lying from a certain point of view, though he doubted Smithers' work could ever be particularly dull. "What do you do in your free time, then?"

The man seemed relieved. "I work on some programs, and even made some games. I can send them to you if you'd like."

Alex tried not to grin too broadly. "That would be nice, thank you. Maybe some books on the programming stuff to, our school doesn't have or cut its program."

Smithers decided to send the kid all of his books then and there. "Shame on them. I'll send some to you."

Alex grinned. That was two. Did nobody in MI6 that he knew have a life? Smithers really was a nice guy, or as nice as it got in black ops, anyway. "Thanks."

He was sure anything Smithers sent would be wonderful.

* * *

Smithers decided the snarky commentary for Blunt was probably Alex's genetics kicking in- not to mention he privately enjoyed when someone stood up to him. Nobody liked that man on a personal level anyway. You didn't get to be head of MI6 by being a Girl Scout, but that guy took creepy to a whole new level. He would prefer the cute kid stay as far away from the man as possible anyway. Everyone knows kids and creeps (sorry, spies) didn't mix well. Alex was definitely charming, in a sort of mischievous boy kind of way. The kid looked like his uncle and probably even more like his dad. He wasn't clumsy either; actually he was almost unerringly graceful, like a dancer. Smithers privately decided that if it was up to him Alex would have a nice, normal life- like his nephew.

* * *

Alex decided that Ian, Tie Clip- sorry, Taylor, Glasses- he meant Brown, and Crawley the Creep. He did NOT want to talk to Blunt, but he and Crawley had almost the same kind of blip on his creep-dar. He took a closer look at the agents- cleanly shaven, early twenties, medium build, and still wearing the distinctive glasses and tie clip. He bit back a sigh at the sight of Tweedledee and Tweedledum; someone needed to tell them not to wear distinctive objects during surveillance operations. Alex decided not to bring up the muddy water incident (for now) and greet Crawley (they would probably be insulted if he gave them surveillance tips. "Mr. Crawley, I'm Alex."

The man gave him a small, slightly indulgent smile. He decided to prompt the man. "So, what exactly does my uncle do for the bank? He doesn't really mention work much."

Crawley did some quick thinking. "He manages foreign assets and does a very good job."

Alex kept the wry smile off of his face. That was one way of putting it. The two agents were staring again- honestly, hadn't they ever seen a kid? Alex was officially irritated. Why would they hire the two most obvious people on the planet? He knew better than to say something, but couldn't resist a jab at both junior agents. "Did the mud come out alright then?"

Ian is barely holding in his laughter. The two glare at him. "You know, following people can get you on restraining orders right?"

Alex could tell he was about to get punched and cursed his own impulsiveness. Ian elbows him again. "Alright, Alex, I think they learned their lesson." He didn't want his nephew's observation abilities revealed. Alex knew to stop now and allowed himself to be dragged back towards Blunt and Jones. Just great. Tweedledee and Tweedledum were glaring daggers at his back.

* * *

Jones immediately looks in his direction and seems to visibly look more cheerful. Alex had a feeling he might be seeing her more often and made a mental note to look up more current politics. Jones seemed a little too into their arguments. Not in a pervy sense, more in a _I'll change your mind if it is the last thing I do_ kind of way. She was little intense, especially since he remembered her as nearly emotionless. Blunt was giving him one of the x-ray looks. He felt once again, like a bug under a microscope. Alex did his best not to flinch. The last time he had gotten that look, he had been recruited to MI6. "Hey, Ian, what time is it?" Ian resisted the temptation for a snarky answer. "About ten, why?"

Alex decided to drop the least subtle hint of all time. "Isn't that my bedtime?"

He asked in his most innocent tone. Ian almost did a double take. Alex doesn't have a bedtime. Oh. _Oh_. "Yes, definitely, Alex. We should go now."

The two of them all but run from the room. "What was that about, Alex?"

"Your boss gives me the creeps."

That much was true. Ian couldn't even disagree with Alex on that part. "We could have at least seen their reactions."

Ian was slightly miffed. Alex smirked. "Check the cameras in the morning. I'm sure you'll live."

They both headed home in Ian's car.

* * *

Meanwhile…

* * *

When Alan Blunt first heard explosions, he felt the first jolt of panic he had had in many years. After quashing it and taking cover with Jones, he noticed that little to no damage was done, but the office began to reek. The smell was so strong it made everyone's eyes water. They had made a protocol for this. They all fanned out to search the building and assess the damage. He noticed that, aside from the smell, there was nothing but a few singe marks. Blunt wondered who in the hell would bother doing that to his office and most of the building. Then he heard Jones groan. "Ian Rider is _so_ getting written up for this…"

Smithers thought it was rather amusing, truth be told. He barely resisted a smile. "He never left the party Mrs. Jones, when would he have placed them?"

Jones thought for a minute. "He must have put his nephew up to it."

* * *

Crawley was feeling a bit of respect for his coworker- bombing Blunt's office as a joke definitely took guts, especially considering the guy could send you on a five year sheep counting mission in Siberia if he felt like it. Jones had known something like this could happen, but she still wondered how their top operative could be such a complete child. She was definitely seeing Alex again- kids needed a mature influence in life and it would be a waste of intelligence if Alex stuck by his current views in her opinion. Jones wondered how Alex would feel about the debate on enhanced interrogation techniques. Alan Blunt mentally sighed in both relief and exasperation. He wasn't going to pull anything too harsh on his top agent, but this was still irritating. Not to mention, the two junior agents appeared to be slightly shell shocked. "Written up?!"

Brown squawked in protest. "He should be _fired_. This is an outrageous abuse of position and advanced explosive knowledge, not to mention endangerment of a minor and..."

* * *

The glare from Crawley shut him up. No way was Ian Rider getting fired on his watch; he was too good. Not as good as John, but far better than Brown could _dream_ of being. "Considering the man spotted and dispensed of the team you lead, _Agent Brown_ , perhaps you should further reserve judgement. He knows what he is doing; consider this exercise character building. Furthermore, the man's field work _and decorum_ far outstrips yours. Ian Rider is effectively immune to being fired."

The man wisely switched to quietly fuming. Crawley wasn't done. "It also didn't escape my notice that a _ten-year-old_ spotted you; no matter how intellectually gifted Alex Rider is, this should not have happened. You two are doing a remedial course on following techniques, starting with why we _don't_ wear _distinctive glasses_ or _shiny tie clips_ while following _experienced field agents_."

Realistically, he knew he was being harsh and the kid was weirdly observant, but he didn't care. Smithers had slunk off to go home. Angry Crawley was not a sight he wanted to witness. Jones decided to intervene before they had another explosion on their hands. "Seconded, Crawley, but next time, consult me first. I also want you to personally assemble a complete file on Alex Rider."

The two agents went off to fume before they could be punished further. Blunt made a mental note to keep an eye on them. "Goodnight, Mrs. Jones, Agent Crawley."

He departed and made a mental note have the cleaning crew in his office first- it seemed only Mrs. Jones' fireproofing had prevented her office from the same fate. He wasn't angry- destructive operatives were nothing new. Crawley decided to turn in- building searches weren't short. "Goodnight, Ma'am."

Jones sighed. "Goodnight, Agent Crawley."


	12. Plans and Prerogatives

Agent Brown and Agent Taylor had both been irritated at their colleague's actions. For one, what he did would have gotten them fired and they had been the ones reprimanded. Plus, that guy's kid was really weird, not to mention a complete snot. They had both been sent to the department psychologist. The explosions had not really been that bad, but it had brought back memories of actual explosions that weren't so harmless. Brown also personally resented Rider's success. By all accounts, the man should have gotten himself killed with his unconventional methods and reckless behavior. Instead, he was a MI6's top agent.

* * *

Brown in particular was irritated by the whole thing. Despite the fact that they had failed last time, he figured that he could tail Rider after he got that refresher course. He decided to stop his current partner outside their workplace. "Hey, partner."

Taylor sighed. "What now, Brown?"

Brown tried not to smile. "Does this seem fair to you?"

"Life isn't fair, Brown."

"Yeah, but we could do something about this."

"Like what, Brown?"

"Well, I think we could tail Rider after our refresher course. Everyone can be followed. Nobody is omniscient."

"Brown..."

"Just hear me out. We tail him. We catch him doing something illegal and the bosses ship him off to Siberia or something."

"Fine, but if we get caught, _you_ are taking the fall, Brown."

* * *

Unbeknownst to them, Crawley had recorded the entire conversation. He decided that he would guard Ian Rider, in addition to watching his nephew. Besides, Brown and Taylor were the trouble-making types and he was getting tired of their attitude and inflexibility. Call him paranoid, but he watched any and all agents that he came into contact with, especially when the end result was negative. He was privately looking forward to watching Ian run those two in circles. Plus, he now had the excuse he needed to send them on some mission even those two idiots couldn't screw up. Jones might follow government policy on firing agents and general assignments, but he didn't have to. He agreed with her decision to watch mini-Rider; he was definitely something to watch since he could spot tails, even if it was those two idiots. Worst comes to worst, he could literally and figuratively fire them if they became an active threat to one of their fellow agents. Crawley had no qualms about shooting people to protect his colleagues.

* * *

Ian Rider had indeed checked the surveillance video from the night before. It was hilarious and totally worth the mountain of paperwork Jones had managed to foist upon him. Somehow, she had a way of turning a harmless prank into a thirty-page form that needed to be filed with four separate departments that only took original copies of handwritten forms. She was evil when she wanted to be. He was currently filling them out in his home office; he refused to go to his work office during the vacation Alex had left. It would probably take him about half a day. Jones was totally being passive-aggressive about this, but he supposed that this could have been a lot worse if Blunt had gotten mad at him. The people who made that guy mad tended to have a lot of unpleasant encounters and a very short lifespan. He glanced out the window one last time before sitting at his desk to fill out the mountain of paper his boss had given him.

* * *

Jack Starbright was secretly glad that Ian Rider was stuck doing paperwork for his job all day. She had missed Alex and didn't think that the man was necessarily the best influence. This also gave her a chance to take Alex out to do some normal kid things. Who on _earth_ gave their kids people- watching assignments on _vacation_? Alex didn't really go into detail, but she figured it was the same every time they casually went out. Jack decided to try to find out what had gone on during that vacation. She was troubled by the look Alex got sometimes and the knife lingered in the back of her mind. Maybe Ian was just extremely overprotective? Alex had karate later this afternoon, but they could still have most of the day together. Alex was back down from his shower now. The morning runs seemed to be a new permanent thing for Alex, not that staying in shape was a bad thing.

* * *

"Morning, Alex. It's eggs for breakfast today and you have karate later on. Do you want to go to the park or catch a movie or something?"

Alex smiled at her. She had always thought he looked almost radiant when he did that. "Good morning, Jack. We could go to the park if you want."

Another thing that was different. He didn't seem to care about the daily activities anymore. Jack hoped it wasn't depression. Alex didn't _look_ unhappy, but neither had one of the people from school she remembered from back in America. Everyone had sworn that she had been the life of every party, but she had an active death wish that had eventually been granted. God, it was awful to think about, even though she hadn't known the woman personally. Jack decided to focus on the present.

* * *

Even though she hated cooking, she made them packed lunches. Alex should get to have those. Heaven forbid Ian Rider cook. Jack was sure the man could, but she hadn't once seen him do it. When she had met, Alex she had discovered a seven year old that either bought or prepared his own meals. There had also been several housekeepers before her who had resigned for unknown reasons (she presumed, though she hadn't asked.). "Are sandwiches fine?"

"Sure, Jack, as long as they aren't tomato, sardine, and peanut butter disasters."

She laughed as she remembered that experiment. They had been entirely inedible. "That was _once_ , Alex, _once."_

"Sure, Jack."

Alex wasn't picky. He had sat down to eat with crazy megalomaniac billionaires. Jack decided to make bacon, lettuce, and tomato sandwiches. You couldn't go wrong with bacon, right?

* * *

The park was, for once, not rainy. The sun was even out. Alex reflected grimly that it was a nice sunny day to check for unseen snipers. Though he saw none, what he did notice pissed him off. Glasses and Tie Clip were back, though without the glasses and tie clip. Apparently, somebody had sent them to remedial surveillance if it had taken him a whole fifteen minutes to spot them. Alex cursed himself for relaxing- someone could have easily killed him just now. To top it all off, Crawley was here as well, walking the same dog. It still seemed to hate exercise. He decided not to bring it up with Jack. Alex would talk with Ian when he got back from karate. Right now, he had to get pictures of those two, since they hadn't seemed to learn their lesson. Alex _hated_ being followed. Ian would probably approve. Crawley would get the benefit of the doubt because he was actually good at his job and he did well taking care of reporters. Alex couldn't afford for MI6 to know he was this good either. It was one thing to spots obvious idiots; even normal people could do that. It was another skill level entirely to spot Crawley. He decided to take pictures anyway.

* * *

Jack noticed Alex tensing and shooting a glare at two people in suits. She decided to ignore it when he relaxed a second later. It was probably nothing. "So, Alex, what did you do in South America?"

Alex decided that accompanying his spy uncle through a two week jungle trek that would kill most people that ended with an assassination while being followed by one of the world's best contract killers was not a safe answer. "We did a hike together. It was kind of fun once you got used to the heat. We did some camping to."

He decided to leave out the fact that they had no camping gear and had only brought their knives with them. "You guys didn't bring camping gear."

Damn. Alex kept his face casual. "We rented some."

"Okay, then."

Jack froze for a second. "Wait a minute; you guys went on a jungle tour near a warzone?"

"It was perfectly safe, Jack. We stuck to the tourist areas."

Alex hated lying to her, but he hated worrying Jack more. Besides, jungles were dangerous as a rule. No way was he letting her near any of the spy stuff, unless he had to. That had been his mistake in Egypt.

* * *

He knew for a fact that the two were probably listening in anyway. No way was he giving them any workable details. Crawley was probably at it too, but the man would hardly call Alex on his bullshit. Hell, the man would probably encourage it. Alex decided to redirect the conversation in a safer direction. "How were your parents?"

Jack immediately went on a role about the vacation she took with them and Alex breathed a mental sigh of relief. It was nice to hear about normal stuff for a change. Ian had a tendency to lecture about educational things or talk about survival tactics or outright instruct him in weapons. The man had been teaching him how to use the knives he had been given, in addition to throwing knives, and gun safety and care (Alex strongly suspected that gun safety would turn into gun firing in a week or two). It was nice to hear about Jack's overbearing parents and brother.

* * *

Crawley had a newfound respect for Ian Rider's child raising abilities when he listened to the conversation with the housekeeper. Rider-mini had just lied flawlessly. If Crawley hadn't been there to see himself that they had no camping gear, he might have believed it himself. The redirect was casual and seemed almost instinctive. He privately approved, though he knew if he complemented Ian on his nephew's lying ability, then he was liable to get punched in the face. Civilians never mixed well with special operations anyway. He added a note for Jones. Crawley also noticed that Alex had spotted the two idiots, _again_. He made a mental note to put them through more classes; clearly, they needed it if they were spotted again. Also, they really should have disguised themselves. Their sloppiness and lack of form grated on his nerves. Those two were exactly what was wrong in intelligence these days.

* * *

Taylor and Brown shared a look. "Looks like the nephew inherited the lying gene. They totally had no gear when I picked them up."

Taylor sighed again. This was a terrible idea. The only reason he was doing this was because Brown was his partner. Neither of them had spotted Crawley. Taylor made a mental note to try to get a new partner when they inevitably went down for this. Brown was hopeful. Even if taking your kid nephew into the jungle with no gear was a crime, he had no proof. Surely anyone who did that would go other actually illegal things, right? Brown didn't have a single misgiving.

* * *

Crawley decided to mentally add misappropriating agency devices to the list of reasons those two jokers were getting fired. He was not happy with them. They had screwed up some assignments before, but this took things to a whole new level. Following another employee and attempting to frame them for a crime was illegal. Honestly, he might just disappear them to the nearest mental institute before he was tempted to shoot them. They were _mental_ if they thought their hare-brained plot would go anywhere. He decided to update Starbright's file, too. He may as well, and it was not as though he had anything better to do.

* * *

Jack had just finished talking about her vacation with Alex, who had actually been paying attention. She was kind of surprised he cared all that much, even her dates tended to zone out when she talked about herself that long. Then again, Alex had always been sweet (at least to her). She knew he would probably end up looking very, very handsome. Jack decided to bust out the sandwiches. Alex took a bite. "Bacon, lettuce and tomato? Did your parents cook you weird American food again, Jack?"

She scoffed and clutched her chest in mock offense. "It's you Brits who are weird. I'll have you know that is a perfectly normal sandwich."

Alex smirked. "Sure, Jack. Which one of us has to special order when we go to Burger King?"

Jack grinned. "That may be, Alex, but I make all your food."

Alex bit back a gulp and shot her his most winning smile. "And it is so wonderfully delicious, I can't believe you make it in ten minutes or less."

Jack smirked. "Why, thank you."

It worked every time. Alex decided he was going to use his age to his advantage. "So, Jack, are you dating anyone?"

Alex kept his face and tone entirely clear. Jack choked on her last bite of sandwich. "No, I'm not. Who told you about dating?"

Alex personally thought her face was priceless. "Ian. When I was eight. You were shopping, I think."

Jack kept her groan back. "Okay, I guess that saves me the trouble."

Jack wondered if Ian Rider had even heard the word age-appropriate in his entire life. Eight was a little young wasn't it? They usually waited until people's kids were twelve in America. She supposed it could be a British thing to or an Ian Rider thing. God knows the man had really odd rules when it came to his nephew sometimes. He also seemed to have a very loose grasp on the idea of social conventions and childhood, though he seemed very calm and very sane.

* * *

Some time and many observations of pigeons and (in Alex's case) certain men in suits, Jack spoke up. "Alex, it's time to head for karate class. I brought your bag with me."

Alex had honestly forgotten what level he was at this age and was glad he had the uniform to remind him. Now all he had to do was act that level. He would probably breeze through the conditioning, but he wouldn't be able to explain if he was suddenly a ton better. Not to mention some the moves he knew and had been practicing every morning for the past month or so he had been back were….considerably more lethal than anything taught at a civilian dojo. He got up early and practiced in his room for a reason- even Ian's (he assumed MI6's) moves were less deadly than Malagasto's. It was a school for trained murderers after all. He sincerely hoped he could pull it off without maiming someone by accident.

* * *

As he changed in the car, he remembered the moves for the level he was at and tried to remember how he moved through them. It just seemed almost non-fluid, comparatively. At least, he had what he needed memorized. Alex made a mental note to practice his karate separately from his Malagasto training. He was really worried about maiming someone. Not to mention if he did, Ian would start getting really nosy. They were related after all. Alex got out of the car and decided not to try his usual jaunty walk. Alex mentally sighed at his luck. The head of the dojo was actually in and teaching the class today. One of the upper level students in charge of the lower level classes was also there. He had a bad feeling that this was going to be an interesting day. The class started with the usual conditioning. Alex was barely even warmed up at the end of it. He could feel the older teacher actively observing him. Alex launched into the first new set of moves he was being 'taught'. He didn't bother making it look like he was having trouble. The form was as fluid, fast, and accurate as he could possibly make it. Alex had missed the class more than he realized. He did it again and again and felt himself relaxing and focusing solely on his form. The call for water break came as a surprise to him. Alex felt himself jump. The rest of the class was all frozen and gaping at him.

* * *

"Umm. Yay water?"

Alex was barely out of breath and everyone else was about to collapse (or at least they looked like it). The old man was now giving him a really odd, almost assessing look. "Damn Rider, when did you get in shape?"

Alex hadn't realized anyone actually remembered his name here. "A month or so ago."

"Something happen, then?"

Yes, Alex thought, I went to the Rider school of running from crazies with machine guns and realized my conditioning sucked. He decided to go with something more appropriate. "No, not really. School is going fine."

The only thing he could really remember about that guy was that he had been bullied in school. Alex supposed that was why he was asking. He desperately tried to remember the guy's name, but it has been five years since he heard it, even in this timeline. The guy smiled softly. "It's, David."

Alex blushed. "Sorry, it's been five years."

"It's cool man, that uncle of yours doesn't leave you here for very long after or before. We haven't really talked either."

Alex guessed that David was in his early or mid-teens. He also felt awkward when he realized he had no idea how to continue the conversation. Thankfully, the end of the break was called.

* * *

Alex decided to keep practicing his form, knowing that if he had been screwing up someone would have corrected him by now. Besides, it was a good distraction from being nervous about the hand-to-hand part of the class. He noticed people were still gawping when time was called. Honestly, weren't they here to learn self-defense? The old man looked almost anticipatory. Wait. He was testing the class on this _himself_? The guy left that to the others usually. Besides, he was kind of terrifying and really good. Alex knew he had no chance in a fair fight with him or most of the upper-level Dans. People were lasting a few seconds at most. David didn't even get a hit in. At least he was pinning them gently. He was up next. Alex knew better than to strike first. Dodging would be his strong point at this age and for some time. Alex didn't really have the strength to hit hard enough. The only warning he got was the twist of the man's fist before he had to dodge. Only instinct from his many, many fights to the death allowed him to dodge the next series of moves. If the man went faster, Alex dodged faster. To the rest of the class, it seemed as though they were dancing. Alex knew he would tire and eventually lose, but he was enjoying this. The adrenaline surged through him as he dodged faster and faster. When he felt the first hit glance his side, he knew he would be sore tomorrow. The next one winded him to the point he didn't see the faint until he got pinned (considerably less gently) underneath the man. He was still grinning. "Nice feint."

He could swear the old man actually cracked a smile, before it vanished a second later into his usual scowl. Maybe he had hit his head. Alex decided to check the clock as he got up. Best ten and a half minutes he had ever had since his return that had one of his "spy skills". The man gave him a long look. "We will speak after class."

Alex knew it wasn't a suggestion. "Yes, sir."

The class finished with the usual cool down exercises. Alex didn't have any difficulty keeping up, though his side was beginning to sting. David was giving him an awed look he didn't really like much. The younger Sensei was also giving him curious glances. So much for not sticking out during class, but at least he had fun. Alex could only hope they didn't get the wrong idea.

* * *

After class he headed straight for the 6th grade Dan's office. He didn't think he had broken any of the dojo rules, but the guy hadn't seemed all that angry. Alex decided it was best to knock. "Come in."

Alex stood at ease on instinct. This reminded him a little bit of meeting the Sergeant in the SAS. "No need for formality. This is not because you are in trouble, here at least."

The man was looking like he was trying to be delicate. "You've improved greatly. We will have level testing next week. I am curious."

Alex glanced at the door; the feeling of dread was almost overwhelming. "Have you been practicing every day?"

Alex breathed a mental site of relief. "Yes, I have. I also do conditioning."

The man seemed to study him intently. He hadn't regularly gone to the dojo after SCORPIA, but none of his teachers in or out of here had said anything, no matter how suspicious his absences got. Alex wonders if Death is messing with him or his luck is really this terrible. "Is anyone currently attempting to harm you or doing so?"

He finally asks. Alex actually thought about it. "Not to my knowledge."

The man seemed to think he was telling the truth. "Next week, you will be undergoing level testing for multiple kyu. I normally do not allow this, but I will know if you do not give your all."

Alex mentally breathed a sigh of relief. "Goodbye, sir."

Alex was almost out the door when he heard the man say. "You will end up in a challenging class, most likely. Also, I am calling your uncle to let him know about the class change."

Alex shut the door. "Thank you, sir."

* * *

When Alex left, the man sat alone, puzzled. He was known just as Sensei to most of the students, Renshi if they wanted to be technically correct. He didn't stand much on ceremony, though. He estimated that his student was at the very least a first-grade Dan, perhaps with some life experience. Even then, it should be impossible to go past four Kyu in just over a month, unless he had trained non-stop. When he said non-stop, it meant over eight hour days. He was reminded of the child soldiers he had met during his travels as a young man, especially with the sir at the end of his sentences. What could have happened? They were illegal in this country, and if he remembered correctly most of the civilized ones. He contemplated looking into it, but it was not really his business. He was older now and he had not done any good the last time he had mixed with national governments of any kind. For the moment, he would not interfere. He did have a duty to protect and teach his students, besides it would be a shame to waste talent. The man decided to watch, just in case something was going on. Alex Rider was much too young to die.

* * *

Jack was getting worried when Alex suddenly appeared outside. "What took so long? You usually get out on time."

Alex smiled a little. "I have level testing next week."

Jack was happy for him. "Good job, Alex. Want to get some cake or something to celebrate?"

Alex decided he was allowed to enjoy cake. "Sure."

Alex was starting to get really sore while the last of his adrenaline was wearing off. He refused to let Jack see he was that stiff, though. Alex made the effort to move normally, even though his legs and chest were stiffening. He made a mental not to take an extra hot shower when they got home. "Can we get chocolate raspberry?"

It was one of the few combinations they both liked. "Sure, Alex."

They head back in the car and the sky is rapidly turning grey. The drops begin to come down just as they close the door. Alex could hear the thunder outside as the rain started. Ian was waiting for them and he seemed to have already ordered take-out. He was actually setting the table. Alex had to stifle his laugh at the idea of Ian doing something that normal.

* * *

Ian hadn't set the table in years, but he was excited. He had even taken the prerogative to order all of his and Alex's favorite dishes from the French place they both had liked. Ian would actually be in town for Alex's level testing and he had decided to take Alex on a trip to Spain for three weeks. They would have fun and go mountain-biking. Ian decided he would break the news after Alex finished up at the dojo. One of the things he regretted most was not being there when Alex had birthdays and school events. Ian began pacing as the two made their way into the dining room. "Hello, Alex. I heard the class went well."

Alex figured the man would have gotten the call by now. "You bet. It's actually fun, once you get the hang of it."

Ian was happier than he had been in a long time. "Let's eat."

They all sit and have dinner together. Alex made a note to wait until morning to mention the two shadows were back. No need to spoil the evening.

* * *

Alex decided to take a moment to collect his thoughts while he stretched. He knew he was going to be very sore if he didn't. The encounters with MI6, not to mention his karate practice were unsettling. He wondered what the deal was with Crawley and the creeps. It wasn't really helping his paranoia much. Alex recalled the conversation he had overheard one day with the Pleasures. They had been trying to convince Edward to send him to one of their psychologists. The doorbell had rung and Alex had concealed himself in the hall next to Edward's home office. Just as well he had, his life never went well when people kept secrets from him. "Why are you here? Alex doesn't work for you and he never should have."

The disgust had been clear in Edward's tone. "We heard he was having trouble adjusting. Perhaps, civilian life doesn't agree with him after all."

"Are you kidding me?! It's only been a few months and the only family he had left died!"

Edward had raised his voice. Alex didn't want to listen anymore, but he was frozen in place. The icy shards of fear began piercing his stomach. "Not at first no, but we can send him to someone covered under national security."

"The day I let you creeps in the same room with Alex ever again, is the day hell freezes over and Triads start handing out free meals. Now get out of my house!"

Alex felt a rush of warmth towards the man. He refused to go anywhere near anyone they sent anyway. When Alex was sure they were gone (the door slamming and Edward cursing them), he went into the office where his new adopted dad was. "I heard you. Thanks for that."

Edward just raised an eyebrow, but didn't accuse him of anything. "You're welcome."

* * *

Alex had nightmares that night. Back in the present, Alex finished his stretches. He still felt upset just thinking about it. Alex went into the shower rubbing the spot his bullet wound had been. He knew the ache was purely in his mind, since he hadn't been shot yet. The only classes at the American school he hadn't been almost failing were languages. He was fluent in Spanish, French, and German. He had begun learning Russian, though he refused to think about his reasons for doing so. Alex had actually been passable by the time he'd been shot. Russian was hard and he had a lot of makeup work to do. Later, since he was used to studying at an accelerated pace, he had begun working ahead, but keeping his grades low. He deliberately made sure that he was average, and had refused to participate in sports. Alex knew he would begin learning it again soon. Chinese and Arabic were worth looking into as well. It wasn't like his school wasn't laughably easy at the moment. He didn't want to make himself even more appealing to Blunt, but the skills that would help him survive also went hand in hand with the skills for MI6. Smithers was about the same as Alex remembered him and so were most of MI6, except Mrs. Jones. She was almost...human. Alex was puzzled. Maybe she just acted different at work? He knew that some people could ferocious towards their coworkers, but very nice at home (the Sergeant and Dieter Spritz, for example). It could be the politics to; he supposed. People got more emotional about that sort of thing.

* * *

Alex decided to go for a shower as hot as he could stand it. He checked over his bruises to make sure it didn't look like internal bleeding, though they didn't hurt that bad. Speaking of Russian, he wondered what a certain assassin was up to. With the amount of time they spent stalking each other; he could probably check the news and figure it out. Alex was also keeping up with important current events, though he took the news with a grain of salt. The news stories MI6 spread came vividly to mind. Plus, he was going on a new policy of all billionaires being egomaniacs who wanted to take over the world until proven innocent. At the rate he was going, the to-do list would go on for pages (he kept his mentally). He decided to look for a spot to keep newspaper clippings and notes that would not be visible to anyone else. Alex decided to focus on amassing his list tomorrow and sleep now.

* * *

Ian Rider was making hotel reservations and filling out the paperwork for his leave request. Technically, filling out some of it was voluntary, but he hoped filling it out would convince his bosses to mind their own business. His mind involuntarily wandered towards Alex. It usually did anyway, but something was still off about him. Ian actually liked the change, though. Alex seemed more confident and independent. It was a good thing in his opinion. Alex had become more graceful and less childlike and was aware of his surroundings at all times, whatever image he was projecting at school. Yassen Gregorovitch had also been on their tail, but had left them alone. Why? Ian didn't have an answer. The man had no qualms about killing anything at all, as far as Ian knew. He still questioned his brother's sanity when he thought about the student he had taken a liking to.

* * *

Ian decided he'd probably rather not know and to check out the windows again. The sun had set some time ago and it was fairly late. Alex and Jack were both in bed by now. The house had full visibility through the windows to the outside. As far as he could tell, the grounds were empty at the moment. It didn't necessarily mean they weren't being watched, but it made him feel better. He knew dark, tree-filled gardens could hide a lot of people and events, especially at night. Ian Rider knew he was far from omniscient, but at the moment he wished he had an answer to why he felt like he was being watched. Though he knew it was not the safest idea, he stood at the window until late at night. The moon slowly rose and cast a dim filtered light on his form. The light fell on the almost faded scar on his hand and he felt a stab of loneliness. He decided to go to bed and knew the feeling was a lot less than it had been for a while. Alex knew about him- the important parts at least. The sensation was like thawing gradually after being outside in the snow for hours. Ian went to sleep and had perfectly dreamless sleep for the first time in weeks.

* * *

Jack Starbright was not having an easy time sleeping. She kept thinking of Alex and how different he seemed. The new Alex was more…somehow. Jack didn't know the word for it. Alex had always been independent, but now it was at an almost self-sufficient level. You didn't bypass childhood in the space of a month. He had a strange sort of confidence, like he always knew who he was- she could no longer tell if he was struggling with his inner identity. There was more patience and compassion than he had before, for her at least. Jack didn't know any other ten-year-old who would listen and sit so nicely through her boring vacation with family. Alex didn't really demand anything anymore either- not that he had ever been a brat. Hell, most _men_ were whinier than he was. He seemed oddly tense and was more serious than he had ever been, but the clever banter was still here. It was like he was more himself than ever before, but in a mature sort of way. It reminded her of the one Chemistry class she actually remembered. The teacher had been oddly intense as he discussed the benefits of refinement to society in the current day. She remembered feeling like the biggest idiot in high school when she asked what it was. The man hadn't mocked her, but had a pained look when he answered. "Ms. Starbright, refinement is when one removes the impurities from a substance." She had long forgotten the rest of the class and his lesson, but that part was stuck. It was as though someone had refined Alex down to the best of his traits. Jack was sure something was going on, but had nothing to go on. She irritably yanked a hand through her hair and muffled the groan when she saw the time. She had still been unable to sleep and she had to get up in four hours. Jack decided to roll over and try to stop thinking.

* * *

That morning Jack Starbright was exhausted. Alex, as usual, came down from showering after his morning run. The unusual part of the morning was that Jack had fallen asleep after making the coffee which was still in the pot. Alex couldn't keep the fond smile off of his face. She seemed to have had trouble sleeping for whatever reason. Alex shrugged. It wasn't like he couldn't cook for the three of them himself. He could also blow up the stove and use most of the utensils as weapons, but his goal for now was making breakfast, not stopping a kidnapping. Alex opened the fridge to check what they had. He took out the eggs, bread, and butter and set to work. Scrambled eggs and toast were done in less than ten minutes. The table was set and Alex decided to plate the food and wake Jack before it got cold. He silently walked over and gently tapped on her shoulder with one hand and held her coffee in the other. Jack opened her eyes to Alex gently tapping on her shoulder. When she saw the coffee, she grinned. "Thanks, Alex, sorry about that."

Alex decided not to tease her before she finished her coffee. "Morning, Jack, breakfast is on the table."

That seemed to get her up faster. Alex went to the table and started eating. He knew Ian would be down in a minute, since he heard the man at the top of the steps.

* * *

The minute she heard Alex had made breakfast for her (Ian, to, but who was counting), Jack felt her heart melt after her initial shock. She felt like crying in a good way, although that could be the fact that she was exhausted. Plus, she hated cooking. Most of her dates weren't even that nice to her, though she hadn't gone out with anyone in ages. For some reason, most of them didn't really know how to cook or didn't want to, not that she could blame them. Actually, most of her classmates hadn't learned before graduating. She sat down next to Alex and started eating with him. Jack knew that she shouldn't be this comfortable having a ten-year-old taking care of her, but right now she just felt more like family and less like a housekeeper. "Thank you, Alex."

Jack was surprised by just how much she meant it. Alex smiled at her in the soft, sunny way of his. "You're welcome, besides you seemed tired."

She could hear Ian Rider at the bottom of the steps. He wouldn't be able to hear them, yet. Jack could only wonder what the man had on the agenda for today. She was torn between wanting him and Alex to spend more time together and wanting him to go to work so she could have Alex for the day.

* * *

The minute Ian got downstairs and bade them good morning; Alex decided to speak to the man in his office. "Ian, can we talk in private after breakfast?"

He didn't want Jack to worry about his three newly acquired stalkers. Jack decided not to interfere. The way Alex had phrased the question sounded ominous, like a family argument was on the way or something else was going on. Some inner instinct told Jack she _really_ didn't want to know. Ian was surprised at the request, but kept his face at his usual blank expression. Alex sounded serious. "Certainly. We can use the office."

He always made sure to put anything sensitive in his desk before he went to sleep. Alex could barely conceal his surprise at being allowed into the office, but then, Ian had nothing to hide from him this time around. Alex checked the phone and made sure the pictures were still there. He wasn't an idiot and he knew that having proof would make him seem less paranoid, even if he knew his uncle would probably take his word for it. As he ascended the stairs, he couldn't help the nervous feeling he had. He still burned with resentment over the way Eagle Strike had gone down.

* * *

Alex couldn't really decide on a nice way to inform his uncle that he was being stalked by the man's coworkers. He refused to fidget under Ian's penetrating look. "Your coworkers are like you right? Not really bankers."

Alex knew it was a yes, but it was a softer opening. "Yes, Alex, why do you ask?"

The man's soft tone was eerie at the moment. "Well, they were following me yesterday. I have pictures and everything…"

He froze at Ian's glare. It was the angriest he had ever seen the man. "Show me."

Alex forked over the phone. Ian was kind of terrifying like that. "It's not you I'm angry with, Alex."

The tone temporarily softened from steel to granite, though the fury remained. Alex had gotten three of Crawley and a whole lot more of Taylor and Brown. They were defiantly in the park and it was definitely suspicious. "Can I go watch a movie with Jack?"

Ian felt the briefest hint of jealousy, before realizing it was ridiculous and Alex was giving him time to deal with it. "Sure, Alex. Have fun."

It was all Ian could do to check his tone and reaction until Alex got out of there.

* * *

Ian was _furious_ ; Crawley he could understand was under orders. The other two would not have been sent with him, though, particularly after Ian knew what they looked like and ditched them on the first day. That meant the two _incompetents_ were following his nephew for their own purpose. Probably a less savory one than Crawley's. He knew he should have left Alex at home for that stupid idea of an office party. Procedure said he should give the evidence to Jones or Crawley and let them deal with it. Procedure and trusting in others had gotten John killed. Plus, call him overprotective, but he was having a hard time resisting the urge to hunt those two down. He grits his teeth and decided to tell Crawley the game was up. Ian felt the urge to murder those two not simmering down as much as he thought. These were people that were supposed to go after criminals and terrorists. How _dare_ they go after Alex. The title of the email was: Looks like those two aren't the only ones. The email attachment was all the pictures and Ian wrote in the message:

* * *

_Something you want to tell me, Crawley? I want an explanation._

_Ian_

* * *

Ian hit the send button with a little more force than strictly necessary. The reply was surprisingly quick:

* * *

_About those two…they struck out on their own. Audio is attached. I'm working on them. As for your nephew, it's profile update week for your family- you know the rules. Thanks for the pictures, it makes my job easier._

_Crawley_

_P.S. Nice job for a kid- or anyone really. The angle is wrong for an adult, before you deny it. I won't tell the boss if you don't_.

* * *

Ian felt an immense amount of relief at that. Getting noticed by Alan Blunt for observation skills was the last thing he wanted for Alex. If his boss did notice his nephew, it would mean nothing good. Crawley wasn't necessarily a nice guy, but at least he drew the line at involving kids. He was irked that Crawley was doing his job, though. He sent his next email rapidly:

* * *

_Isn't tracing them my prerogative? This is my nephew and life we are talking about!_

_Ian_

* * *

Crawley understood the man's frustration, but if he let Ian Rider in on this, those two were going out in a body bag. They were idiots, but not really traitors. That guy was seriously overprotective when it came to his work and Alex. The last people who had even plotted against the kid "disappeared". Even Blunt hadn't been able to find the bodies. He had a sinking suspicion that they never would. Crawley fired off another email:

* * *

_No way in hell! You are_ _way_ _too close to this. Besides, we all know what happens to people who threaten your nephew when you get involved. I want them alive this time. Enjoy your vacation!_

_Crawley_

* * *

Ian sighed. Crawley _did_ have a point. He was still smug about those idiots who had thought about kidnapping his nephew. He had made sure they were never seen or heard from again. Ian knew enough about getting rid of bodies and killing people to feasibly get away with any murder he wanted- terrorists and mobsters had very creative ideas. Ian decided to go down and watch the movie with the two of them. Fuming wasn't productive.


	13. Cossack Returns

Most of the week passed fairly peacefully for the three in the Chelsea house. Alex was, however, very frustrated. If MI6 was doing something about their tails, they were acting very, very slowly. He was weighing the value of being completely anonymous against doing something to get them off of his back. Alex hated the feeling of being cornered that came with the tails. Crawley got a pass from Ian, but the other two were going down. Ian had told him later some of what was going on, but said to let other people handle it. Alex hated waiting on anything and it was already Saturday. He passed level testing with flying colors and graduated with his old rank of a first grade Dan, which he was very proud of. Ian and Jack had both congratulated him. Alex had already packed for the trip and checked his bag three times. They were going on a boat instead of a plane, so Alex got to keep his hidden knives. They never left his wrists, except when he showered nowadays. He decided to head out after he finished taking stock of his backpack again.

* * *

He decided that he was going to do something about those two _now_. It may be impulsive, but at the moment Alex didn't care. Besides, he could always cause an _accident_ \- looks like that SCORPIA training was coming in handy again, though this one would not be fatal. Alex walked down the street and made sure those two were following him. They were making the mistake of focusing on him and not his surroundings. It would be their last, at least when following him. Alex checked to make sure the cars were actually going the stated speed limit before implementing step two of his (admittedly last-minute) plan. He made sure to wait until the light had almost changed until he crossed and then he picked up a rock. Alex couldn't bite back the decidedly shit-eating grin on his face as he threw a rock at the two agents.

* * *

He had made sure to pick a time of day that they would be tired and irritable and he made sure to flip them off to add to the injury. Alex had also carefully picked the place and the most flimsy-looking large free-standing sign he could find. The two literally ran across the traffic as the light turned green. The blaring of the horns distracted them from the noise of the falling piece of wood that Alex had pushed over when they finished crossing. What Alex had failed to plan on, was the sign taking the rest of the stand and one of the chairs with it. The sign had actually been helping hold up the sun cover over the shop and when the plastic sheet fell, the metal poles and chair underneath it went with it. Oops. Alex winced as the chair hit one of them in the side and the poles clipped the other in the head. He was rather alarmed at the lack of noise the two made after that and after spotting one of their phones on the ground Alex hit the British emergency number and left the phone on the curb next to them, after he used a napkin to wipe the prints- he was not leaving evidence. While he strongly disliked them, they didn't deserve to die. Alex was _not_ going to stick around and answer question for this. He made sure to take the quickest way home and breathed a sigh of relief when he got there. Alex was pretty sure he got away with it.

* * *

Crawley was surprised when he got an alert on his phone that two of his agents were in the hospital. He checked to see who it was and suppressed a groan when he saw it was Taylor and Brown. Honestly, he had been surprised when Rider had agreed not to be involved with those two. The man had better not have left prints or evidence- he was _so_ not covering for him if he did. Crawley decided to visit the scene first, since those two jokers had gotten themselves concussed. When he saw the aftermath, he was grudgingly impressed. There were no CCTV cameras that covered this part of the street. The phone had no prints. The stand and sign were both top-heavy enough to have been blown over by a particularly strong breeze and there were no witnesses who saw anyone matching Rider's description anywhere near the stand. It was almost creepily perfect, like it could have been an _actual_ accident. Crawley knew it wasn't though. At least Rider had the decency to call an ambulance or they would have bled out. He shuddered at the thought. The bosses had to be informed about the accident. This was going to be a joy. And everyone thought _he_ was the 'accident' and 'persuasion' specialist. The truth was: he had nothing on John or Ian Rider.

* * *

He met up with Blunt and Jones fifteen minutes later. Jones was first. "What did you find?"

Crawley was glad that she was to the point. "There was no evidence to suggest this was anything but a strong breeze ma'am."

Jones wasn't letting him get off that easy. "But?"

Crawley shrugged. "They were following Ian and his nephew. Some sort of professional jealousy issue."

Jones let out a very long sigh. Crawley supposed it was because Ian had cut her and the boss out and 'handled' another situation himself. The man practically caused half of her paperwork by himself. Crawley decided to add in. "It could have been an accident, ma'am. There were no prints, no witnesses, and the sign was top-heavy and had a city citation for it."

Crawley didn't believe it any more than they did. It wasn't like Ian would leave anything for any kind of investigation. The police had already ruled out foul play and declared it an accident. Jones had a wry smile on her face. "At least these two are alive. At this rate we might even convince Agent Rider to let us handle an investigation into his nephew's safety just before he retires."

Crawley snorted and Blunt looked as expressionless as ever. "Good luck with that, ma'am."

Crawley decided to exit with that. This was Jones' problem now.

* * *

Ian Rider was surprised to say the least when Tulip Jones knocked on the door at eight o'clock in the evening. They had finished dinner and packing hours ago and Alex had gotten back from his walk and went to do his evening workout in his room. She was breaking protocol by meeting him in his house, not that he minded overmuch. "What's up boss?"

She didn't look particularly pleased with him. "Two of your coworkers had a run in with a sun cover/ sign this evening. They are currently in the emergency room with considerable blood loss and concussions. Sadly, neither has any memory of the event due to the injuries."

Ian made a private note to take Alex out for celebratory ice cream. "That's a shame Mrs. Jones. Which ones were they?"

He had known from Jones' expression that it was Taylor and Brown and she thought it was him. Ian could live with that, since there was no way he was turning Alex in. They both knew he was playing dumb. "Taylor and Brown, Mr. Rider."

Jones was sounding particularly tart at this point. "I'm having everyone retake their online training for stalking and harassment protocol."

Ian kept back a snort. In his opinion, that shit wasn't worth the computer storage for the timed PowerPoint. "I'll be sure to have it completed in time for next month's deadline, then."

He would, but he wouldn't actually follow it anytime soon. "Goodnight, boss."

Jones actually sighed. "Goodnight, Ian."

Ian would have totally covered for Alex, even if he had stabbed those two. He was just glad there were no loose ends to cover up and that Alex had been smart enough to not leave evidence.

* * *

Ian decided to go upstairs and have a talk with his nephew. He knew he shouldn't be this amused at his nephew's role in their near demise, but it was kind of hilarious and he wanted the whole story. Plus, he wanted to make sure Alex had done enough planning. He made sure to knock before entering. Privacy was important for children, or so he had read. Personally, he was starting to think nosing in Alex's business was the best way to keep him from 'problem solving'. While it was entertaining and helpful, he didn't really like the idea of his nephew putting his freedom and life on the line for him. "Evening, Alex." Alex kept the smirk off of his face. "What's up, Ian?"

Ian snorted. "Like you don't know, brat. I really should ground your ass for putting those two in the emergency room. What _did_ you do?"

Alex smirked. "Don't you want to know?"

Ian was not giving up that easily. "Come on, I have to do all the paperwork and take the blame for all your antics, the least you can do is tell me the story."

Ian actually didn't mind at all. Alex made life so much more interesting, especially recently. Alex decided to take pity on his guardian and tell him the story. He started with the plan he had made; home turf had its advantages. When he finished telling Ian about the thing collapsing on them, his uncle burst out laughing. Ian sobered somewhat at the part where he called the ambulance and left the phone without prints. "I feel like I would be irresponsible at this point if I didn't tell you that they are barely alive. Alex...be careful not to kill anyone unless you have to. It...changes you, even if you do it by accident."

Ian brightened again. "At least they are off our backs now. Celebratory ice cream tomorrow after the boat."

With that, Ian left the room. Alex wondered sometimes whether he was the adult in the relationship.

* * *

He went back to the pirated Russian books he had hidden when his uncle knocked. Alex had gotten them online and was now studying them. Thankfully, he had his own printer and computer. It wasn't so much that he didn't trust his uncle, but he wanted to keep his advanced studies to himself. At least he was old enough that Jack wouldn't check if the plants they had gotten were poisonous or hazardous in any way. She had been rather surprised at his new interest in pretty plants, but had totally gone along with it. Alex had planted them in the garden himself and made sure that they were relatively innocuous-looking. Ian probably wouldn't recognize them, but it was better safe than sorry and someone like Yassen would. Alex was also hiding a steadily growing number of IEDs around the house. Ian would recognize those, but the man would have to find them first. He still felt nervous leaving Jack by herself, but he was actually kind of excited to go on a trip to Spain with Ian. Alex had also been pleasantly surprised by Smithers package. He was kind of touched the man sent him all of his books and the games (which were awesome). Alex had beat them and sent back a rather enthusiastic review. He was trying to figure out how to make an anonymous encrypted email for MI6. The best idea he had so far involved emailing them the information for each case at an appropriate date, but he didn't want it tracked back to him.

* * *

Alex already had an alias in mind: Atropos. Personally, he thought it was a bit melodramatic, but it fit with what he wanted. Alex knew he was most likely cutting their life short, which was the most direct connotation of the name. Also, he liked the idea of being in control of his own fate and he figured that the female name might mislead them for a while. Also, taking the identity allowed him more freedom to his own life. At any rate he was physically ten and mentally sixteen, so he figured he had a right to be slightly melodramatic. The other options he had considered were just a little too obviously him or slightly grim. Artemis might be a giveaway, since his dad was Hunter and Thanatos was just a little too close to Death for his own personal comfort. He knew from some sort of police presentation that they gave at school that law enforcement considered aliases psychologically important. They were- for the killers police went after (and caught) - in Alex's world, they were disposable conveniences. Besides, he had a role to play for said emails. Since he had never actually made his own identities up before, he was taking his time on this one. Atropos would have to be solidified as a separate person in his mind before he wrote anything. Alex was thinking he would go with something that would appear as a middle-aged somewhat freelance French operative. With the right slang, it would not be terribly difficult to pull off, especially by email. He looked forward to the political and inter-agency turmoil he would cause in the investigation for each operation. Alex would, of course, involve the Americans, French, Russians, and Australians in every email, just for the political shit storm he knew it would cause. It was only fair, after all (or at least that would be what he put in every email).

* * *

A few hours of alternating Russian and coding textbooks and a headache later, Alex decided it was time to go to sleep. He made sure his window was dead bolted and the knives were in their spots under his mattress. They were easily accessible, though they wouldn't really help if someone extra deadly was after him. Besides, someone like Yassen or Nile wouldn't be dumb enough to let him reach for anything concealed. If someone sent one of those two after him, he knew he screwed up royally. At that cheerful thought, Alex decided to roll over and get some sleep.

* * *

Meanwhile…

* * *

Yassen Gregorovitch had just received his next assignment. It was in Spain. The assassin knew the country had lovely beaches and mountains, not that he would be caught dead on a beach. He didn't have anything against them personally, but professionally they were not very defensible and were easy to get sniped on. Fortunately, his target was at a mountain resort. Yassen would be flying in, probably snipe them and fly out. It should take no more than four or five days. The target was some politician who had gotten too many gang members arrested. The gang wanted a message sent and was willing to pay in the range of a couple million euros. Yassen was willing to take the shot. The job he had was very lucrative and he didn't mind killing people at all. He packed his non-distinctive clothing in his average suitcase. The weapon would be provided on-site. If all else failed, he could make a second attempt with his knife. The gang was not picky about how the politician was disposed of, so long as it got done. He briefly thought of Alex, who he planned to watch over on his vacation time. It was not like he had anything better to do and the SCORPIA doctor insisted he take quarterly breaks and that a two-week trek through the jungle watching Ian Rider and prowling for information didn't count. Yassen hadn't corrected the man's assumptions about what he'd been doing in the jungle. He didn't need anyone to tell him he was unhealthily obsessing over a dead man and his son.

* * *

Alex's boat ride over was uneventful. The sea was bright and sparkling like a multifaceted jewel. He was actually relaxing when they disembarked and checked into the hotel room. Ian was going to take him to Gibraltar. It was a bit of a stiff bike, but he heard from everyone in the tourist bureau that seeing the apes was worth it. They were staying in the mountains together. Alex saw that security had been ramped up because some Spanish politician was staying there. From what he heard from the harried staff, she was unpleasant and had gotten threats from a gang. The maid had been cheerfully cursing her in French. Something about her being picky about how the rooms were cleaned and how the husband and son were both sexist pigs. Alex made a mental note to avoid the whole family. With his snark and their attitude, he had a feeling the conversation might end up in a diplomatic incident. He went upstairs to leave his suitcase in the room. Ian met him downstairs and they went out to enjoy the warm weather together. They walked until it was early evening around the city. The restaurants wouldn't open for at least another hour, so they headed back to the hotel.

* * *

The hotel staff looked somewhat frantic when they arrived there. The manager looked especially nervous. Alex decided to see what was up. He was fluent in Spanish. " _What is going on?"_

Alex addressed the manager. _"We are sorry, Mr. The woman demanded a floor change to your floor. We will have to ask you and your father to change rooms, since the entire floor must be cleared."_

Alex didn't correct the man. Ian was the closest thing to a dad that he had anyway. _"Quite alright by me. She sounds 'difficult'."_

The man snorted and looked intensely relieved. Alex didn't think calling her a bitch in public would get him grounded, but it was better safe than skewered. _"Here are your key cards. We took the liberty of moving your suitcases to the rooms. The maid should be done by now."_

Alex made sure to give the man a sort of half smile. _"Thank you. Hope everything goes alright on your end."_

Alex could pass for a native speaker if he wanted to. Ian was looking at him oddly.

* * *

They both went up to their new rooms and made sure they were both bug-free before Ian spoke to him. "What?"

Ian just smiled a little. "Your Spanish is awfully good."

Alex just gave him a dry look. "We lived in Spain for ten months when I was six and I have been in Spanish classes ever since."

Ian rolled his eyes. "No need to get sarcastic on me. That was a compliment."

Alex bit back a snarky retort. Languages were one of the few skills he was proud of. He couldn't resist the jab after the next question his uncle asked. _"How is your French going?"_

Ian should know better than to language with him. Alex replied in equally perfect French. _"Better than your relationship with your coworkers."_

Ian snorted and switched to German. _"That isn't saying much. I'm pretty sure if I was anyone else, I would so get fired."_

Alex put in one last jab. _"Pretty sure, huh? The chance is 100%, Ian. I'd want to fire you to, if you stink bombed my office."_

Ian gave him a totally unbelievable innocent look. _"That was funny."_

Alex switched back to English. "Only for us, Ian." Alex then broke into a grin. "Race you downstairs! The restaurants are open now."

Alex took off. He didn't really care if he was acting like a little kid, right now he had people to dodge and a lobby to get to.

* * *

Ian stared in shock for a minute before he registered what Alex had said. Then, he was off. He may be a grown man, but a race was a race. Not to mention, he had a nephew to catch. Several people were giving him an amused looks as he went after Alex. They got to the lobby at almost the exact same time. Neither was particularly out of breath. The people in the lobby just shot them exasperated looks. Both of them were laughing as they walked out the door. Ian decided that they were going to have dinner at a seafood place he had spotted nearby. The catch would have been delivered yesterday, so the taste would be fine. There seemed to be plenty of locals and tourists in the mix, so he figured they wouldn't stick out too much. When he remembered earlier in the lobby, he felt slightly warm inside. Alex hadn't corrected the manager when he had called him Alex's dad. Maybe he was focusing too much in it, but he felt his heart melt a little. Not to mention he was proud of Alex, very, very proud. Ian knew he wasn't the best parent, but he figured Alex was turning out very well. He decided to focus back on his surroundings as Alex got them a table. It was not overly well-lit, but the room was very warm. The entire floor and walls were made of dark wood and the ceilings were held up by wooden beams. The tables and chairs had the same reddish- brown wood. The noise was a low rumble and easily tuned out, though you would have to shout over it to be heard. The two of them easily ordered their drinks and dishes in Spanish. They had been seated near a fireplace, so they were particularly warm.

* * *

Alex didn't really like crowded areas or restaurants all that much, but he enjoyed he grilled shrimp and lemonade. He understood that it was easier to fade into a crowd, but being in one made him paranoid that someone was watching. The feeling that he was being watched was almost overwhelming. When he saw a flash of a very familiar set of icy blue eyes he fought to keep his expression neutral. What were the odds that Yassen was here on vacation? Probably very low. He decided not to tell Ian. If the assassin had been after them, one of them would be choking on poison by now. Alex watched Yassen from the corner of his eye. There was nothing to mark him as anything but ordinary. He had dyed his hair a darker color and cut it slightly shorter. The clothing was relatively inexpensive and was on the darker end of the spectrum. The leather jacket set off the outfit nicely and if Alex didn't know it was Yassen, he would have assumed it was a normal tourist. There was no mistaking the icy cobalt eyes or the lithe, graceful walk. Alex didn't have to think too hard to figure out who the target was: there were only two worth shooting in the hotel. He was sure Yassen was here for the politician.

* * *

When Yassen spotted John Rider's son, he did his best not to stare. What were the odds that he and his uncle were actually on vacation? Probably low, though they may not know it. He was familiar enough with intelligence services to know that a suggested holiday was usually anything but. Ian Rider seemed oblivious to his presence, but he noticed Alex was shooting occasional glances his way. It seemed he hadn't informed his guardian, then. How...interesting. Even if this was attributed to him, he doubted it would be made public. It wasn't like he wasn't already on the terror watch list already. He wondered what had given him away. Yassen had already scoped the area out and would take the shot the next day. Alex or no Alex, he had a job to do. The price for failure was death.

* * *

Alex knew sending a note to an assassin was a bad idea, but he had already been caught staring. It couldn't get that much worst. The feeling of being watched was not helped by the fact that the assassin had left shortly after they did and was currently in the same hotel lobby. There had been another security scare and nobody got to go to their rooms until the building had been searched. He figured it wouldn't help keep her alive anyway and felt a stab of annoyance at the absurd amount of precautions being taken. Alex would bet money that Yassen was carrying all of his weapons and he had his knives on him. He knew a for a fact that Ian did as well. At least this gave him the excuse he needed to talk to the maid in French. " _Can you give this to the gentleman in the leather jacket? I think he dropped it earlier."_

It was a note he had written to Yassen. " _Certainly. I will take it up to his room._ "

Alex smiled and thanked her. Ian was in the other corner talking to the hotel manager to see what had prompted the search. His uncle had not noticed the exchange and a quick glance around the lobby let Alex know that the other customer were more concerned with getting to their rooms than what he was talking to the maid about. Yassen raised a single eyebrow in his direction before going back to whatever small talk he was making with a Japanese couple. Alex could tell from the way he was standing that Yassen was about as comfortable as he was in crowds. At least he wasn't old enough to get mistaken as the man's date. Wasn't that a creepy thought? He decided to leave the assassin to whatever small talk hell he had gotten himself into and decided to "see the garden". Since they were searching from top to bottom, Alex was fairly sure they were done with his floor. The drainpipes would support his weight just fine. The door swung shut behind him and he took a moment to make sure nobody was watching. Once he saw the coast was clear, Alex began to scale the drainpipe that was conveniently covered in tons of vines. The leaves of the plant felt really squishy, but the vine was woody and rough. Thankfully, there were no thorns on it. It was a short three-story climb back to his room. When Alex checked himself over, he realized he was now lightly soaked and had leaves all over him. He really, really didn't like crowds of grumpy people. Also, the window lock sucked and he should wire it shut. He decided to shower and change before anyone had a chance to knock.

* * *

An hour into studying his secret Russian textbook later, he heard knocking on his door. Alex carefully hid it under the mattress. "Come in."

A slightly worried looking Ian walked in. "Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you?"

Alex felt a stab of guilt. He had kind of forgotten about his uncle. "Not really. I assumed you would assume that I went up to the rooms after everyone got sent up."

Ian sighed. "How did you get in, by the way?"

Alex couldn't see anything wrong with his plan. "Well, the crowd was really noisy, so I walked outside and climbed up the drainage pipe."

Ian looked shocked. "We're three stories up and you don't have climbing gear."

Alex just shrugged. "There were vines and stuff."

Ian just gave him the don't be an idiot look. "Really, so it was safe?"

Alex figured it was comparatively safe to the MI6's idea of holiday, but didn't say so. "For me. It probably wouldn't take your weight."

Ian just kept giving him the stare. "Nobody was watching and I figured I could make it."

Ian had started glaring. "Fine, I shouldn't have climbed an insecure line. It won't happen again, excluding emergencies, and I should have stayed in the lobby."

Ian looked faintly satisfied. "Better, Alex, and you could have been spotted."

Alex knew for a fact everyone would have be gawking around the lobby or focused on their dinner, but he decided not to say anything. Ian sighed. "Good night, Alex."

Alex shut the door behind him and locked. The textbook came out again and he went back to formal Russian greetings for another hour before he went to sleep.

* * *

Cossack, also known as Yassen Gregorovitch, had opened the note immediately upon entering his room. The assassin had not known what to expect. He had seen Alex pass the note to the maid, but did not think it was for him. Unlike that uncle of his, he also had paid attention to where the blond trouble magnet went. Seriously, at this point he was calling the man's parenting abilities next to nonexistent. Was _don't climb drainpipes, you might break your neck_ really beyond Rider's ability to communicate? Yassen decided to read the note before he decided to break someone's neck out of sheer irritation. The contact he had met today had been about as subtle as a dropped brick and had drawn police attention on his way out. Yassen could barely hold back a smirk as he read the note.

* * *

_-C_

_You might try some contacts to go with that hair dye and the walk, while nice, is a "dead" giveaway._

_-A_

* * *

Really, Alex? Death puns for an assassin. He had heard the two often enough to know them by name. Passing notes seemed so...juvenile. At least he knew how he'd been spotted. He was going to take the shot tomorrow, when the target had her breakfast in the outside garden. If Alex wanted to pass notes, two could play that game. He wrote one out for Alex to get tomorrow. Yassen figured he could live with Alex knowing just how accurately he shot a sniper rifle. He carefully rehearsed his part in the exchange before he went to bed.

* * *

Ian Rider could not shake the feeling that something was going to happen. He felt tired as he felt the last traces of his panic earlier dissolve. Nothing could describe the icy feeling that had burned through his chest at the thought of losing Alex. While his nephew taking risks was nothing new, the casual disregard for his own safety was new and alarming. Alex would never have climbed a drainpipe three stories or at Ian didn't think he would have. His nephew was hiding something. Alex had been tense all evening and didn't normally forget to tell him where he was going. Ian was starting to feel the urge to search his nephew, although he already knew that he wasn't going to act on it. Alex was also way better at languages than he remembered, but that could be because he had left him alone for months. The guilt was beginning to eat at him. He turned over again before deciding to check out the window. The lock really was terrible on that thing. Ian made a mental note to stop by the hardware store and get something to wire his and Alex's window shut.

* * *

He stared outside, wondering what could have possibly triggers his instincts. Years ago, he had been on a mission and had been sitting in a cafe. There had been a single gunshot and someone completely unrelated had died. Later, they had discovered that there was an inheritance dispute and someone had hired a gunman to shoot the rest of the people. It was a depressing memory. Ian decided to make some coffee because there was no way he would be able to sleep. The chair was patterned in the light, but in the dark it seemed like a dark gray. Everything in the room was shades of grey. The moonlight seeped in through the window. He settled down to watch in the darkness. Midnight had been hours ago, and even the city was quiet. The robe was fixed around his waist. What was really hours, but seemed like minutes, the first grey of the sun rising broke through the sky. Ian decided to officially get up now. Alex would go on his morning run in half an hour and he wanted to run with him.

* * *

When Alex walked out of his room and found Ian in the hall waiting for him, he was actually surprised. Normally, Ian wouldn't be up for another few hours. Actually, his uncle looked like he had pulled an all-nighter. Alex felt a stab of sympathy- he had done many himself both before and after Egypt. He decided not to broach the subject. The day after one of those was always a bitch. The route Alex had decided on was fairly safe and through reasonably nice neighborhoods. Alex always enjoyed running, especially when it wasn't for his life. The missions hadn't been able to ruin that, at least. He was trying not to focus on the fact that Yassen Gregorovitch was in the hotel and probably going to kill someone today. The SCORPIA planning had been particularly systematic when it came to timetables. You got one scope-out day and one shooting day, for the ones they wanted to succeed anyway. Alex didn't feel at all guilty for the (probably illegal) textbooks he had taken from Razim's palace. They had been annotated by a few of the teachers. Besides, he actually learned more on the island than he ever did with MI6. Rothman had set him up to fail- he knew that now. Frankly, her grudge made her pathetic. If she hadn't deliberately set him up to die, he may have actually stayed. SCORPIA would say that MI6 needed desperate upgrades to asset management, and Alex wholeheartedly agreed. Not that he wanted to kill people, but he had almost enjoyed his time at SCORPIA's school for menaces to society. It was better than SAS training. Alex finished his circuit and made a mental note to vary his run times. Habit gets you killed.

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, they sat down for breakfast with a great view of the veranda with the politician and her family. After watching the husband harass the waiter and the politician berate her, Alex felt most of his sympathy for them die. Actually, he was kind of hoping Yassen would hurry up, since he couldn't draw his breakfast out much longer. Suddenly, a shot rang out and Alex ducked under the table on instinct. A second and a third sprayed more gore across the now red window. Alex felt only slightly nauseous. After the room was silent for a few seconds, the screams began to ring out. Ian was next to him, low to the ground underneath the table. Alex decided that since Cossack was done shooting, he would finish his breakfast. Ian waited a moment and sat back at the table with him. The rest of the restaurant was in pandemonium. People were screaming, crying, and Alex heard a few puking into potted plants. He had seen more gruesome deaths. One of the women saw them and stared. "What _is_ wrong with _you?_ How can you _eat?_ "

Alex ignored her. She was probably in shock and he couldn't care less what strangers thought of him. After a few minutes, the police got there and shut the place down officially.

* * *

Alex was sincerely wishing the police would hurry up and get to them, though he didn't think they would catch Yassen. The man was considered one of the best, if not the best in the world. The rage he had felt towards the man had long been extinguished and he was ambiguous towards what had taken its place. Alex was surprisingly unafraid; even though it was a distinct possibility he could easily have been shot number four. Privately, he could appreciate the skill it took to hit the targets over the distance shot. He noticed Ian was also observing the gunshots from his side of the window. Alex guessed Cossack had used hollow points to make extra sure his targets didn't live. The scene really was a mess, but Alex was wondering why they were even bothering with people on the ground. "Ian, why are they interviewing in everyone here? Those are sniper shots."

Ian wondered when Alex had gotten morbid. "Standard procedure. Also, they know this was a professional hit, so they will probably not catch anyone."

Alex felt a piece of paper in his pocket that hadn't been there before. Perhaps he had been distracted after all. The police were now heading in their direction. Alex knew then he wouldn't be giving anyone a clue in. One, it would get them killed. Two, he knew what it was like to be at the tender mercy of MI6 and he didn't want Cossack in their hands. Alex actually felt a grudging respect for the man that was threatening to become an attachment. He fingered the paper.

* * *

The questions were short and quick. No, they hadn't seen or heard anything before the shots. They were here on vacation. The police officer was still eyeing them curiously, but let them go. Ian was puzzled by Alex's complete lack of surprise or any other reaction. Did he know? Ian was going to find out exactly what his nephew was hiding. Alex knew that expression on his uncle's face and excused himself to the restroom. Thankfully, it was a single person restroom and the door had a lock. There wasn't much time.

* * *

_-A_

_Playing games already, Alex? Tsk, tsk. Whatever will your uncle say when he finds out? We both know you haven't told him. You have probably been told about me and you should know that the man who calls himself ASH isn't safe for you. Any police and agents sent after me will, of course, be shot, but you knew that already. Stay in school and DON'T climb anymore drainpipes. I knew the truth about your father, most likely before SCORPIA. Do yourself a favor and don't follow in his footsteps._

_-C_

* * *

Alex couldn't help the smile on his face and he knew that he should destroy the note, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He supposed he must have inherited his dad's soft spot for a Russian assassin. Alex actually used the restroom before he left. Ian was now probably going to be breathing down his neck.

* * *

The minute they got upstairs, Ian closed the door and thoroughly checked for bugs. "You knew, somehow, what was going to happen."

It was part question and part accusation. Alex had forgotten Ian was actually a patriot sometimes. "I knew there was a distinct possibility that she would die, yes. Did I know the time and place? No."

Ian just looked at him. "Who?"

Alex wasn't sure he could actually get the answer out. He was torn between the man who saved his life and the man who had raised him. It hurt, more than he thought possible. Ian was still looking at him expectantly. Alex just couldn't choke the words out. "Alex, it's OK."

Ian's tone was now softer. Alex still couldn't say anything. "I'm sorry." He really was. "Cossack's here."

Ian started. "What?!"

Alex sighed. "Yassen took the shot, Ian. He's gone."

Ian just gave him a look. "And you didn't tell me the minute you spotted him because…"

Alex found the carpet fascinating. He fingered the note that felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. "You would have gotten shot if he thought you recognized him. Plus, I have issues with 'enhanced interrogation techniques' used by the police."

Particularly with waterboarding, but he couldn't tell Ian that. Ian wondered how you were supposed to convince your ten-year-old that torture and death was sometimes necessary. "You told Jones the truth, then. You sacrificed them for me."

Alex was not at all ashamed of that part. "Yes, I did, I suppose."

His tone was icier than he had intended. Ian felt like he was failing somehow. "It's supposed to be the other way around."

Alex finally found the ability to meet his uncle's eyes. "I don't care."

Alex really didn't. He was done with sacrificing the people he cared about for complete strangers. Ian knew it was a lost cause right now. "Can I see the note now?"

Alex didn't see why not.

* * *

Ian felt more and more nauseous with every word he read and reread. When he figured out Alex was hiding a note, he had expected something more threatening. The note sounded almost playful. It didn't help that Alex eventually admitted that he had written one to the assassin first. Apparently, he had wanted to gauge the man's reaction to him. Ian had been wondering about Alex's sanity at the moment. What the hell was going on with those two? He knew he had to call the bank. "Why would he even reply to you? What did you write?"

Alex sighed and told him exactly what he wrote minus the walk. Alex had actually deliberately picked a non-aggressive tone with the man. No sense in aggravating the assassin. Ian just looked at him. Really, Alex? Death puns to an assassin. At any rate, he knew how to call for emergencies and this definitely qualified. The number and code was memorized before his very first mission. "Hi, this is Royal and General Bank. I need to speak with the manager about my account."

Ian was put in directly to Jones. "Yes?"

"The Spanish politician sharing our hotel was just assassinated."

Jones wondered why he was calling. "And?"

Ian was glad she was straight to the point. "It was Cossack."

He heard a sharp intake of breath over the phone. "How do you know?"

Ian really didn't want to submit his nephew for questioning. "He left Alex a note. I don't know why."

Jones actually sounded concerned. "Is Alex alright?"

Ian sighed. "Fine, but very reluctant to answer any questions on the subject."

Jones decided to make an executive decision. "He'll be gone by now. We'll debrief you when you get back. Alex can stay out of it for now."

Ian breathed a sigh of relief when he cut the phone connection.

* * *

Alex was relieved he wouldn't have to go in. On the other hand, he would have Ian in overprotective spy mode for the rest of the trip. Ian seemed to be settling in for lecture mode. "Alex, that man is very, very dangerous. The next time you see Yassen Gregorovitch, you need to tell me."

Alex didn't tell him that he was more afraid for the assassin than of him. He didn't have the heart to tell Ian that he trusted Yassen to look out for him more than the bank. "It won't happen again."

Alex would have a better poker face next time. "I feel like I should stay with you for the rest of the day, Alex."

That was the Ian he knew. Alex didn't like the idea of keeping secrets from Ian, but he liked the idea of Cossack in the hand of Blunt even less. God only knew what the man would do to him. Ian had decided to get one of the hotel movies on demand. They both sat on the couch, with Alex leaning on the man. The adrenaline rush had gone and he was sleepy. It was nice to have an excuse to hug the newly solid and alive relative of his, to. Having Ian back was just as nice as having Jack back. The man was also really comforting, when he wanted to be. Alex had even started wearing the man's cologne off-mission to remember the way he smelled. He would probably fall asleep before the end of the movie- he had seen it before.

* * *

Ian knew he was being paranoid, but was determined not to let Alex leave his sight for the next few weeks. He ran his fingers through his nephew's hair. Alex looked a lot less tense when he was asleep. He really was adorable. Ian had been worried about Alex going into shock after seeing three people get their heads blown to smithereens. After the day they had, Ian felt justified in taking a break from their planned agenda. He and Alex would be heading out tomorrow. Ian was actually wondering how his nephew had gotten anti-law enforcement. Surely, he knew that terrorists needed to be stopped. Maybe it was just the torture he was uncomfortable with? It wasn't exactly an uncommon belief. Ian was totally keeping an eye on Alex for the week of school after he got back. He had already gotten Smithers to agree to help bug the place. Unlike the two agents Alex had landed in the hospital, he actually knew how to conduct illegal surveillance without being caught. Ian was also deciding on whether or not he should take Alex with him for assignments like he used to. There was school to consider. Well, they had the rest of vacation to look forward to. Ian personally hoped there was no drama for the rest of their trip.


	14. Fun and Games

The rest of the trip had been surprisingly uneventful. Alex had been mountain biking with Ian by day and studying his Russian and computer programming by night. Gibraltar had been especially picturesque. The bike had been a bit of a stiff one, even for Alex, but once they got up to the top it was stunning. The signs had warned people in at least twenty-seven languages not to eat or drink in front of the apes. One lady had done it anyway and Alex had turned just in time to see a five-hundred-pound ape swoop in a grab the crackers from her hand and then eat them out of the package. It was funny to him, but she had screamed. She didn't even have a bruise. The view was spectacular and Alex could see the multicolored, busy city below. The cars looked like matchboxes and the buildings looked like toys. Seeing the apes up close without having some evil villain set them on him was also nice. He had forgotten how much he liked seeing large animals when they weren't trying to kill or eat him. These ones actually looked healthy, too. Their skin was unbruised; their eyes were clear and they all looked very well fed and groomed.

* * *

They had also spent time on the beaches together, although they were very rocky. The water was actually blue and the weather was warm enough for surfing, which he had done. Ian had been particularly watchful the entire three weeks. Alex could barely convince the man that they didn't need to share a hotel room to sleep in. As much as he loved Ian, he did like having some alone time. Plus, he was keeping up with his independent studies. There really wasn't a way to comfortably explain why he felt the need to study what he did. Alex was also concealing it from Jack because she would think that Ian put him up to it and try to convince him to do some normal activities. While he appreciated the effort, his time was mostly better served actually learning. Alex was also studying exactly what he would need to pass his GCSEs. Even if something did interfere with his schooling, he refused to do poorly on those. It would keep his future options wide open. Alex stared at the sea on his last day of vacation. He wasn't really looking forward to anything at school except seeing more of Tom. Another thing he could be upset at Blunt for. Although he hadn't been able to prove the man had sent the shooter, it was the only thing that made sense and it had turned out far too conveniently to be a coincidence.

* * *

Yassen had not really been what Alex expected, either. The assassin had never been playful; of course, they had been in each other's way in the past. Alex wasn't sure how to deal with him. He supposed that he was different than what he had been, before. Old Alex would have tried to turn him in or threatened to kill him again. This time, he knew he could not kill or betray the man in cold blood. Julius Grief on the other hand… At any rate, it was a puzzle he was unlikely to solve. Cossack probably knew exactly what would happen when he gave Alex the note, hence the not coming back to the hotel. Alex did not feel guilty taking it back, though. He knew collecting notes wouldn't win him points in the sanity department, but he wanted something he could physically touch as a reminder. It was nice to have the notes and he already had a hollow portion of wall in the back of his closet (in Chelsea) that had Jack's note. Yassen's would be added to the collection. He sincerely hoped Ian never found it. That would be a _fun_ conversation. No, he wasn't paranoid at all. Alex cut his gaze quickly around the beach. There weren't any agents around, but you couldn't be too careful. At least Yassen had given Alex an excuse to gently push an ASH investigation. Alex decided to have the original note go 'missing' after he made a copy for Ian. Balancing the agent and the assassin in his life was becoming delicate. He hadn't thought Ian would take it so personally. The man seemed to take it as a personal affront or failure that Alex had gone pretty much behind his back. Alex didn't ask questions, so why would it go the other way around? The other agents hadn't cared if Alex did his own thing, though he hadn't done anything similar or counterproductive in the past.

* * *

Ian Rider was puzzled. Most people, if they received a note from an assassin, would run screaming from the room and hysterically call the nearest law enforcement. Alex had not only gotten a note and kept it secret, but also initiated contact and deliberately plotted to be unhelpful for law enforcement. Technically, he could be arrested for treason at worst and obstruction at best. Why on earth would _Alex_ care about _Yassen_? The man was practically stalking him and Alex seemed to be egging him on, like it was a _game_. Didn't Alex know the man was a complete psychopath who shot people for a living? Ian thought it had been pretty clear when he told Alex about John to never, ever approach _that man_. Maybe he should have directly told him that? It seemed like common sense to Ian, but Alex seemed to just shrug away the danger and give him insufferably vague answers as to why he wasn't afraid of the world's best assassin. Ian knew full well all the implications of 'it won't happen again'. Alex could have meant it in the sincerest way possible (he doubted it) or he could just mean the situation wouldn't happen again (more likely). That left Ian with the alarming possibility of Alex shielding Gregorovich. The possibility that _Alex_ could end up in the man's dubious care had also crossed his mind.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich wasn't the sort to demand all the surveillance videos of his own work, but this time he made an exception. For whatever reason, Alex had covered for him or he had just not done anything. Either way, he knew Alex would hand the note over eventually. Ian was no slouch and would spot all the tells that Alex hadn't quite been able to conceal. When he heard the audio from their conversation (closer to an interrogation, really), he was surprised at Alex's resistance to giving him up. Most people would have no qualms seeing him dead or tortured (the joys of being a terrorist assassin). The boy had not struck him as particularly compassionate; in fact, he had been cold and as unsentimental as himself upon the deaths of three people less than a foot away from him. He hoped the imbeciles would get the message on who to investigate, but if not he knew the one he actually cared about had gotten the message. Yassen figured the last part had been an excuse for Ian, who should know better than to have that conversation outside the walls of MI6. At least Alex seemed to have his priorities organized. Yassen could respect a person who could consciously admit to weighing other people's' lives and deciding who meant more- he had done so for many missions. He vaguely wondered if Alex would turn out more like him or his (rather careless in his opinion) uncle. Personally, he was hoping for himself. Morals and patriotism got people killed, after all. It was time to get Alex an early present.

* * *

Alex was desperately trying not to be annoyed with his uncle. Ian meant well…He was just very, very persistent. Alex didn't really want to talk about Cossack anymore, but Ian seemed determined to convince him that the man was dangerous (no shit, Sherlock) and a terrorist who deserved to die (Alex didn't think people had a right to decide that sort of thing, call it personal experience) and that he should tell Ian the minute he saw him (no way in hell!). Maybe he was being irrational, but whatever he and Yassen had was between them. It was the only really stressful part of the vacation. He compensated by studying more Russian and programming. It helped calm some of the anxiety. By the time Alex got off the boat back home, he was ready to bang his head against the wall. He had no idea that his uncle was this argumentative or felt that strongly about who he talked to or rather _wrote_ to. Alex decided to escape his (now nightly) Yassen lecture by unpacking the minute they got home with his door closed and locked. He finished putting everything away in what was probably record time, just so he could have around an hour of peace before dinner. When he opened the bathroom drawer to put his comb away, he saw a slim package in red wrapping paper. Wearily he used his letter opener and one of his shirts to open the package without touching it and held his breath. To his relief, it was a phone. Red for Russia, and there was only one Russian he knew. Alex double checked the door before turning it on and entering Cossack as the password. It opened up to a home screen and showed one text message.

* * *

_-A_

_This phone is untraceable, provided you do not share it. Text for casual conversation and calls under three minutes_ _**for emergencies** _ **_only_ ** _._

_-C_

* * *

Alex knew another thing he was keeping on him at all times. He was so dead if Ian ever found out about this. Alex decided to type in Russian, just for the extra trouble it would cause MI6 to translate if they ever took his phone.

* * *

_-C_

_Got your present. Thank you by the way. I don't plan to share, but if this gets confiscated I will try to warn you or destroy it. Nice shots._

_-A_

_P.S. Hope my Russian is OK. I'm learning._

* * *

Alex was surprised at the quick reply. The man must have been bored. Then again, he had met some of the people who hired Yassen and he would be relieved to have any kind of sane conversation working for them to.

* * *

_-A_

_Fine so far. The warning itself will do, though I would prefer the destruction after it. One would think you would be more patriotic considering your family._

_-C_

* * *

Alex snorted at the obvious prompt. Yassen was in no way indirect, but it made a nice change from the normal ambiguity to his life.

* * *

_-C_

_Kinda hard, when the only difference between sides is the end goal. Besides, have you_ _**met** _ _Alan Blunt? That guy is a creep. I have to go after this, family dinners are alive and well, you know._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack was still surprised at the willingness of Alex to talk with him. He felt vaguely amused at the text. But, he had seen Alex. Even now, he was better than Ian Rider and most (if not all) agents. Ian was the best in his field, currently. Cossack was the best in his own right, as well. Whatever Alex chose to do, he would be the best in his own field. That and the fact that he was surprisingly loyal had prompted this move. He texted back before sitting down in his current transport and thinking for the longest time he had in a while.

* * *

_-A_

_Death jokes, again? No, I haven't, but the rumors about him are fairly unsavory, even for an intelligence director. Rumor has it that even his allies fear him. Then again, he can ruin a life with a wave of his hand. Goodnight._

_-C_

* * *

Alex made sure to hide the phone in a concealed waist pouch, designed against pickpockets. He could carry it in his pocket at school, but Ian would notice if he suddenly had two phones. Alex would probably conceal it in a box with a false bottom. The wood shop students always gave them out because they were considered too basic for a portfolio, since it was the first thing most of them made. Actually...he already had one. Now, all he had to do was follow with maps from his trip, a few papers from other trips. He knew he'd find a use for that thing eventually and now it had one. After dinner, he would handle it.

* * *

When Alex got downstairs, he expected Jack and Ian to be at the table. Instead, he found Ian and Mrs. Jones. Were they tossing the basic illusion of secrecy in all but name out? Alex was not in the mood for anything to do with MI6 at the moment. He very nearly turned around and went back upstairs. Alex reminded himself he was supposed to act ten. "Um, I can go back upstairs if you want to talk some more. Where is Jack, by the way?"

Mrs. Jones was pleasantly surprised by his manners, some kids would whine if they had to wait ten minutes extra or eat dinner with their guardian's boss. She was trying to handle this delicately. "It's nice of you to offer, but we actually want to talk to you."

Alex almost groaned. That wasn't ominous at all. "Here's a copy. The original got lost in the packing. I can't help you much besides that."

Alex was trying to avoid talking to her on actual business as possible. "Also, not to be rude, but shouldn't it be the police or Interpol that gets this?"

It would be a fair question, if he didn't already know why they were forking it over to Jones. "You'll see."

Alex was actually far from impressed with that. "OK by me."

He shrugged for effect. Alex knew he would regret eating with the two of them, but it wasn't like he had a choice.

* * *

The second he sat down Jones opened a Manila folder and handed him the OSA form. "Read and sign please."

Alex wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at the irony. Of course, he knew this particular form by heart. "That was a quick read, Alex."

Alex decided to throw her a loop. "I know this one by heart. I can even recite it in French if you want."

Jones actually smirked at him. "Then you know the consequences of breaking it."

Alex knew he was pinned. Ian rolled his eyes at his nephew's antics. Alex decided to play whatever game Jones was at. "So what's the big secret? Let me guess, you guys are all spies."

Jones sighed and ignored the sarcasm. "Very astute, Alex."

Alex gave her the _you must be kidding me_ look. "Fine. What do you want from me, right now?"

The food tasted like ash, right now. Alex could barely swallow. "Most people have questions."

Alex gave her a _get on with it_ glare. "Most people are morons who live in a pretty black and white world where spying is a glamorous dream."

He wondered if he came off to cynical. "In other words, some things I would rather not know."

Alex wished for mind bleach sometimes. Jones wondered if Alex was trying to make her job difficult. Weren't children supposed to want to know everything and be idealistic? She made the executive decision to show him. Part of her knew it was wrong, but she wanted him to _see_. She wanted him to know why people like Yassen Gregorovich needed to be gone from the world. Jones took out all the pictures from the collection she mentally dubbed Cossack's most hideous kills. They depicted (most likely X-rated) acts of butchery. Alex took in the pictures with only a vague sense of distaste. Three's books had similar diagrams and he had seen gore before. "I assume you have a reason for bringing _that_ to the dinner table."

Alex said as nonchalantly as possible. Maybe it was immature, but he decided to fuck with her by appearing completely undisturbed by the pictures that would make ordinary grown men vomit. They both look at him like he's from another planet. Maybe he had gone too far? Alex waits for them to start speaking and started eating again. The food still tasted like ash, though he knew it was normally good. He felt a dark satisfaction at shocking them into silence for nearly a minute. "A true pacifist and most others would have been unable to continue their meal."

Jones stated. Alex felt the atmosphere change from friendly to interrogation. He looked directly into her eyes. "I believe in self-defense, Mrs. Jones. War can be complicated, but it serves a purpose. Pictures don't match up to the true gore, which I have seen and continued eating. Since when have I ever been a pacifist?"

Jones was becoming increasingly concerned that Alex might not be all the way there, so to speak. "Since your main objection to Cossack's capture was the use of torture. Why would you care when the man is a butcher himself?"

Alex considered it for a minute; he couldn't tell her the real reason. "So we should descend to his level? I believe that people should not become the monsters that they hunt."

Jones left the pictures out and seemed to remember that she was talking to him. "We'll discuss this at a later time. For now, you tell me everything that happened from the time you spotted Cossack to the time you got here."

Alex told her everything, minus the critical details of his new phone and what happened to the note. It wouldn't be Yassen if he wasn't ruthless. Alex didn't really mind the seeing kills that he already knew at the back of his mind had happened. The part of Alex that had taken the chance to come back was the same part that could tolerate the shooting of people and knew that he could easily become the very assassin he was protecting. Butchery was not a new sight for him. At least this put him out of running for any kind of job in the legal side of intelligence, unless he changed his views. Alex could no longer accept the role of puppet and so he had to be something neither side could touch. Plus, he cared more about making sure Yassen and Ian never had their confrontation than a few more dead people. He had finished his meal a few minutes ago. "May I be excused?"

Ian answered this time, his tone surprisingly gentle. "Of course you may."

* * *

Alex made sure to use the vents to eavesdrop. They did echo, after all. As it turns out, he could've just sat and listened to the shouting. "WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT JONES?!"

Wow, Ian never shouted. "Excuse me? Your nephew conveniently decided not to report facts and probably cherry-picked the ones he did tell us."

Ian was not really mollified by that _at all._ "THOSE PICTURES ARE PRACTICALLY X-RATED! HELL, THEY GIVE _ME_ NIGHTMARES!"

Jones could understand where he was coming from, but they had a job to do. "The point of them, as you know, was to demonstrate the more violent traits of the man we are trying to convince your _extremely_ closed-mouthed nephew to give up. If you don't quit shouting, you _will_ be punished for insubordination."

Ian decided to calm down. "And what if he does have problems?"

Jones huffed. "We have perfectly good staff for that and he is welcome to join you in your free medical care."

Ian bit back a growl. "So to be perfectly clear, you decided to traumatize Alex because you think he _might_ be hiding something."

Ian knew he was holding a double-standard, but whatever Alex was hiding was between him and Alex. "He seemed perfectly fine to me."

Jones said in a completely neutral tone. "Ever heard of shock?"

Ian snapped. Jones decided to excuse his tone. "People in shock don't eat. Perhaps you should take him anyway. Anyone who displays that amount of indifference to their first time seeing those pictures…"

Ian's eyes flashed dangerously. "The day I let him near a platoon of shrinks under Blunt's thumb is the day hell freezes over."

Ian's tone told her the conversation was over. "Goodnight, Tulip."

It was much gentler now. "Goodnight, Ian."

Alex breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the door shut behind her.

* * *

Alex sat down on his bed breathing hard. He hated this. There was also the fact they knew he had spotted Yassen. Alex leaned his head against the wall, the cold helped a little. Ian decided to take that moment to walk in on him. The man looked absolutely horrified at what had just occurred. "Alex, I am so, so sorry."

At the moment, he could no longer keep his tone even. "It's fine."

Ian looked at him. "No, it's not. Alex, you are shaking."

Alex hadn't realized that he actually was. Ian decided to continue. "Please don't spare my feelings. I don't even think you even know the meaning of the word, if this is fine for you."

The room felt freezing. Ian was lightly moving towards him. The man gave him time to back away, if he wanted. Alex decided enough was enough and began to steady his breathing with his eyes closed. He felt rather than saw Ian sit next to him on the bed and pull him close. Alex leaned into the touch. The room seemed to be thawing again. "I had no idea what she planned to Alex, I promise. I never would have let her into the house if I had."

Alex could barely contain his flinch at the reminder. "I believe you."

Alex actually did. Ian had never knowingly hurt him before and Alex doubted he would start now.

* * *

He nearly started crying when he remembered he had school the next day. How the hell was he supposed to act normal after this? Ian left a little later, and for the first time since he came back, Alex had trouble sleeping. He stared at the sky as the moon steadily rose. His hands almost unconsciously found the phone he had been given. It was untraceable, waterproof, and would probably work anywhere in the world. The box was simple. The papers were easy to find. The phone fit into the false bottom like a charm. Alex wondered if he would ever stop feeling like he was betraying his uncle when he looked at the phone or if he would ever not feel guilty giving MI6 even the slightest hint to finding Cossack. Well, if he wasn't sleeping, he may as well study Russian and programming. Alex finally felt tired at about one in the morning. Five hours of sleep was better than no hours of sleep (he knew from experience). The books were carefully shut and hidden beneath the mattress. Alex stretched out on the bed and promptly passed out.

* * *

Alex Rider wasn't the only one who had trouble sleeping that night. Ian Rider regretted ever letting Jones come into their house. She had decided against excluding Alex when she had actually read the police report and Ian's scan of the note. Starbright was out on a date, not that Ian was overly concerned. She seemed like a smart woman. He paced his office forward and back. At least if Alex slipped in front of anyone from the Bank he would have already signed the official secrets act. Ian was uncertain for what was not the first time this month. His bosses were particularly ruthless when it came to SCORPIA. It wasn't entirely Alex's fault, but Ian couldn't conceal the entire truth from his bosses this time and he was afraid for what it meant for Alex's future. Jones wasn't as subtle as she thought in her attempts to convince Alex of her view of things. Ian was going to take a huge risk and show him exactly what made this particular house special. The office was only the beginning. MI6 didn't exactly know about all of his adjustments, either. The blueprints had been 'lost' and only on paper when the place was originally built. Ian and John were far from the first spies and soldiers in the family. The technology had been updated, of course. The password was long, but appropriate.

* * *

_Aut inveniam viam aut faciam._

* * *

_I find a way or I make one._ Ian considered it the de facto family motto. The family also kept considerable amounts of classified information that included their missions down there, as a sort of family diary. Ian had an entry or two to make, and they would be long. He started at the point where he had gotten back from his last official mission. They also stored copies of legal documents and what they considered useful equipment and training areas. It was soundproof and generally attack proof. There was also a list of known strongholds both active and inactive and known intelligence people. The encryption was far better than anything anyone else had and the computer did not connect to the Internet; it was for storage only. Ian had 'acquired' the family's equipment over the years and kept it down here as well. His parents had died in an accident. The family of the Helen had been Mossad, as far as Ian could tell. Helen had been the only civilian and not in the know. They had been killed in a bombing in one of the many Middle Eastern wars during a family reunion. Ian had managed to obtain their equipment, among other things. He knew that storing all of their personal effects wouldn't win him points in the sanity department, but he couldn't bear to get rid of the only reminders of the dead. Alex seemed to have started his own collection. Ian had heard him sawing at the wall, though he hadn't identified which part of it, even after he checked the room three times. No, he wasn't paranoid at all, just careful. He finished entering his new information and legal document at about midnight. Ian knew he had to get Alex to school tomorrow and decided that six hours of sleep was better than no hours of sleep (he knew from experience). The basement was a family secret; no one else knew about it. No one else would know about it. Ian replaced the bookshelf in its usual position and silently climbed the stairs. The alarm was set for six o'clock a.m. Ian did not sleep well at all that night. The vivid bloody images mingled with his mind and not for the first time he had a series of nightmares. Of course, his worst nightmare would always be the same. Ian had no idea what he would do if anything ever happened to Alex or what Alex would do if something happened to him. Ian could admit to himself that Alex probably had a dark side. It made him shudder to think about. The brightest lights cast the darkest shadows, after all. Alex...Alex would be better than him….better than anyone if he could help it. Ian could train him all he wanted, but in the end it was up to Alex and Alex was only human, no matter how well trained. The empty look he had gotten after their almost argument in the hotel…Whatever Alex chose to do with his life, Ian knew he would be a legend.

* * *

Both men were woken by screeching alarms and with sighs. Alex quickly dressed in the uniform he had laid out last night and the backpack he had packed the night before. Jack had made breakfast and his lunch before she had gone out, which Alex found when he went down the stairs. He decided to heat up Ian's breakfast as well as put the coffee on. He had packed his extra books, just in case he was horribly bored in class. Ian Rider dressed in a suit, so he took slightly longer to get ready. He went down the stairs and found Alex eating his breakfast. A glance at the clock told him that it was record time for any kid to get ready. Who the hell had kids that could get up and dressed in fifteen minutes or less? Oh well, it was better than being late. Since they were obscenely early after breakfast, Ian decided to take the scenic route. They drove around London until it was closer to time for school to start. Even then, Alex arrived about fifteen minutes early for school. He was fully awake and aware. The feeling of being out of place was not unfamiliar as he dodged one of his sleepier classmates, who were only just now beginning to register their surroundings. Alex decided running to his locker and class was not out of line, even if no running was allowed in the hallways. It was a real shame that the summer break was over.

* * *

Alex had to go to home room to get his schedule, and checked it over. He had Maths, English, Spanish, French, Government, History, Science, and P.E. At least none of it looked horribly complicated when he checked the syllabi the teachers gave him. They were all quite dull, but it was only the first day of school. Alex was sad to hear that Tom had different teachers, but not surprised. Tom wasn't taking as many language classes. They did, at least, have the same lunch period. He was looking forward to seeing his best friend again. Alex sat down in his usual spot and waited for Tom to get there. Predictably, Tom walked in humming a cheerful tune five minutes into lunch. "Did you hear about the new funding the civics department is getting?"

Alex contained a groan; this kind of reeked of meddling by certain higher powers. "Apparently not, Tom, do tell."

Tom grinned. "Well, I heard about 'cause I have Government first, right. The teacher was all excited. Apparently, some stuffy old government dude wanted us hooligans to be more patriotic or something. It's the most excited I've ever seen any of 'em."

Alex snorted and then paused. "Army recruitment is at a low point, I suppose."

It might be self-centered, but he couldn't help thinking that this was somehow because of him. Tom continued. "You know, I always said that guy was a little _too_ attached to that subject."

Alex groaned out loud at that, but couldn't help the chance at retaliation. "Tom, there are some things I'd rather not know about your personal fantasies."

That got him whacked with an empty lunchbox. Alex gave Tom his most innocent look. "You started it."

The teacher on lunch monitor duty was making a beeline for them. "Boys, this is your verbal warning. No horseplay in the cafeteria."

Alex decided now was a good time to pack up and dump his empty tray. Tom and Alex headed towards the library, since it was the only other place they were allowed to go to during lunch. It was usually empty, and today was no exception. "Ian took me on trips all summer, mate, sorry about not being in touch."

Tom sighed. "The arguing keeps Jerry and me up at night. It's fine though, I get that Ian isn't the most...around, you know."

It was Alex's turn to sigh. "You can come over if you want, you know."

Tom gave him a faintly pleased look. "Thanks, man."

On that cheerful note, the bell rang and startled both of them. They both went in opposite directions from each other and onto the second half of their day. Alex wanted to do something about Tom's situation. He knew he could, but he wanted something that wouldn't get him in trouble with the law, or more importantly Tom. Alex was so intent on forming a plan he almost walked right by his classroom. Thankfully, he could be excused for that on the first day back at school.

* * *

It was Spanish class, but the topics they were going over were ones he had mastered years ago. Alex payed attention on principle, but his attention occasionally wandered to the clock on the wall and a certain Russian. Alex hadn't realized he'd been drifting until the teacher suddenly asked a question. "Mr. Rider, what do you have to say about the political situation in Spain?"

Alex perked up, challenge accepted. Then, he answered her in what he knew was perfect Spanish. He started with the strikes and corruption and ended with the assassination he had witnessed (he left that part out). "Very good Mr. Rider, but I would appreciate your full attention in the future. Speak to me after class."

Alex did his absolute best to look alert and attentive for the class. The bell rang and everyone else left. Alex tried not to look to on edge. "I'll write you a pass, Alex."

Alex had the good grace to look contrite. The teacher looked at him kindly. "You seem to have mastered this particular language over the summer. I don't think this class or any class I can offer you would be challenging enough for you, at least for Spanish."

He really wasn't sure what to say. "What other languages are you interested in? We can see if I have anymore that overlap."

Alex almost cheered. "I'm interested in Russian, Chinese, and Arabic. I already started on Russian, but it's slow going."

The teacher smiled at him. "I think I can arrange for that. You'll be doing worksheets for most classes, but we can arrange for time to practice speaking on the oral days with everyone else."

Alex was glad; he did actually like learning languages. "Thank you."

The teacher wrote him a pass. "You are welcome, Alex."

He went off to his next class. Neither of them noticed the tiny bug-shaped object take off from the window.

* * *

Alex was quickly excused by his teacher and sat through the rest of his classes without incident. His French teacher told him to keep up the good work. The last class of the day was government. Tom was right; the teachers were positively glowing with pride. They started going on about the generous donation from several government officials. Once they got to the PowerPoint about the new books and 'patriotic' activities they would be doing, Alex began wondering what exactly Blunt had blackmailed the politicians with. The new textbooks were passed out and when Alex saw the first paragraph he almost shut it mid-class. The people who made the glorified propaganda for children had clearly never learned the meaning of the word subtle. He experimentally flipped to a chapter at the end of the book and barely kept back a growl. They completely glossed over the imperialist plots in India and didn't mention casualty numbers about some of the more modern wars that Alex knew he could find in books for adults. At least he knew the history well enough that he could get away with not reading the 'textbook' for both America and Britain (and a few others). Ian had started Alex's education with very accurate lectures when he was very young. Alex decided he would be using that homework time to skim through the book and take the required notes and then brush up on his Russian history with Ian's books. The home library was good for anything non-fiction. He could actually pass most of his GCSEs right now if he wanted- he had checked.

* * *

Alex decided to show Ian the gag-worthy book when he got home. Little did he know, Ian would have a whole set of questions for him. Alex's phone buzzed three minutes after the last bell rang. Tom was asking for an escort home and Ian had told him to take the tube. It worked out perfectly for Alex. Alex and Tom rode together during rush hour. Neither bothered trying to speak over the general buzz from the crowds. They got off together and Alex took Tom home. A gloomy silence had settled over his friend. "Good luck, mate."

Tom snorted, almost bitterly. "Night, Alex."

Alex walked the short distance to his house alone, determined not to be paranoid. He opened the door to his house and stepped inside. Alex barely held back his impulse to jump when he was pulled into a hug. He returned it immediately when he realized it was Jack. "Afternoon, Jack."

She was here, and Alex could barely look at her without tearing up in relief. He hadn't realized that he had been that worried about her. Jack was as energetic as ever and Alex was glad to see that she was unchanged. The only difference he noted was the faint bite mark on her neck. Since he was too young to comment on it, he left it alone. The woman who was like an older sister to him deserved someone nice in her life, after all.

* * *

They had dinner together, and Alex didn't bother asking when Ian would get home. It had been a long time ago that he just accepted that his uncle would sometimes be late or not there with little to no warning. He just made small talk with Jack, who asked about his day, and finished his dinner. Alex completed his assigned homework in under an hour and then went back to studying what he actually wanted to learn after doing his entire workout indoors. They taught indoor and outdoor versions of workouts at Malgasto, too. Alex was actually shocked to hear Ian come into the house much later that night. It was more early evening. Usually, the man would be on a 'business trip' by now. It was lucky he hadn't decided to use his phone, because Ian chose that moment to knock on the door. Alex closed his Russian book with a snap and shoved it under the mattress. "Come, in."

Ian did and sat at Alex's desk. "So, how was your first day back?"

Alex wondered why Ian wanted to know, since he usually left that stuff to Jack. "Um, fine. Actually, have you seen the new textbook? It's really...just look."

Ian took the book, flipped it open and snorted. "That's the nicest description of colonization I have ever read."

Ian snapped it shut. "Read up some of the library books on your own time."

Ian seemed to be thinking for a minute. "When did you start learning Russian?"

Alex's mouth fell open. "You bugged my school?!"

Ian gave him a look. "It was stunningly easy, besides I worry about you."

He glared at the man. "You don't think that may have been a little bit overboard?"

Ian gave him a look that said _hypocrite._ "You don't think critical condition is overboard for people following you? Besides it's only for a week."

Alex was rather shocked.

"You didn't answer my question, either."

Alex sighed. "Two months or so ago."

Ian wasn't near done. "When you found out about my job specifics, then. Why didn't you tell me?"

Alex shrugged. He had honestly just forgotten he was supposed to tell adults these things. "You would have found out anyway. I'm sure they left you a message from school."

Ian fixed him with and exasperated look. "You are supposed to tell me these things. And where are your books?"

Alex felt himself mentally groan. "Under the mattress."

Ian actually snorted. "Really, Alex? Up and let me see which ones."

Alex decided to brace himself for when Ian found the other textbooks for hardware and software under his bed. "Alex, why do you have restricted material under your bed?"

Ian actually sounded concerned. "Smithers sent it to me. I wanted to learn some stuff about computers." 

_Wonderful,_ Ian wanted to hiss. Instead he managed to keep his irritation at his colleague's interference in check. "Next time, just tell me. I'm not mad or anything and it's good you wanted to learn on your own."

Ian left Alex to breathe a sigh of relief. No wonder Smithers had helped him surveil the school, he was less irritated with the since he had helped him and since he seemed to have Alex's best interests in mind. Perhaps he was being overprotective, but he didn't like the idea of anyone he worked with near Alex for too long. Still, with the Russian and computers, Alex was basically doomed if he wanted a career outside intelligence.

* * *

Ian sometimes wished Alex was less brilliant. He had already attracted unwanted attention from Jones, Crawley, Smithers, and Gregorovich. Now all he needed was to get Blunt's attention and he would have the complete set. Ian hoped to keep him off of Alan Blunt's radar. In his own way, he could be every bit as ruthless as the assassin. Ian's worst fear, besides Alex being dead, was Alex being forced into the service. It was supposed to be voluntary. He revised his plans to showing Alex the basement. It could wait for the weekend. Ian went to his office; a surprising amount of paperwork was involved in his line of work. Jones also sent him the codes she couldn't crack, when he had 'free' time. Ian was not really in the mood to help her right now, so he ignored his email. Instead he looked into that government initiative. It just reeked of something Jones might have the politicians do once in a while. She did manage some of their reputations after all. Sure enough, some of the sponsors were people he knew were under her thumb. He wondered what she thought she was playing at. Oh well, he had already bugged the school. It wasn't like he couldn't monitor it and 'forget' to give Smithers his bugs back. The man wasn't exactly a tightwad when it came to devices, when they were properly appreciated.

* * *

Alex had pulled out his new phone and texted Yassen. He knew he was playing a dangerous game, but Alex had never let danger stop him.

* * *

_-C_

_Jones seems a little obsessed with you, if her file is anything to go by. We had a nice "chat" and I signed a bunch of papers._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen mentally sighed. The habit of concealing emotions was so ingrained that he did it even when nobody could see him. Jones seemed to be taking far too much interest in Alex, however. The pictures can't have been age appropriate for children, either.

* * *

_-A_

_That seems egregiously inappropriate. When did her interest in you begin? Normally, she would have maintained cover._

_-C_

* * *

Alex wondered if he hadn't just shortened the woman's lifespan by a few decades. _Inappropriate_? Since when was _Yassen_ parental? Well, he had tried to stop Alex when he was fourteen, but that was different. This version seemed, if anything, slightly more protective.

* * *

_-C_

_Well, there was this dinner party that Ian and I didn't really want to… Anyway, I debated her to distract her from that prank and she's been on my case ever since. I think they're behind some new curriculum at my school, to, but I have no proof._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen felt a pulse of alarm. A busy deputy head of MI6 made time to meddle in the life of a ten-year-old. That was suspicious as anything could be. Ian Rider took Alex to meet Blunt and was now officially a _moron_. Now, even his co-workers counted Alex as his successor. If the man had been trying to leave Alex career options, he failed _miserably_. He needed to make one thing clear.

* * *

_-A_

_If they recruit you, I will take you myself. By the way, you just violated your contract with the government. Finally, if you so much as think a reckless thought, you will live to regret it._

- _C_

* * *

Alex read the text with a raised eyebrow. Apparently, there were people more paranoid than he was. He highly doubted the situation was that critical, considering his and Jones' differing viewpoints and his recent activities. She seemed to want to make him want to serve his country first, not that it was going to happen. Alex was a little surprised that the man would put in the effort to 'kidnap' and train him, though.

* * *

_-C_

_I doubt they are thinking of it currently. I have the OSA memorized, and I know full well I'm violating international law and committing treason. I don't mind, really, it's nice to have someone to talk to that isn't Ian about this stuff. Isn't texting you reckless?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen wanted Alex to take this seriously. While child soldiers were officially illegal, black operation were not known for following the law. Children should be in school, not working for the government or catering to their whims. The first contact had been, but since he had proven he was not a threat it wouldn't be. The avoidance of the question...

* * *

_-A_

_Nice try for a distraction, Alex. I'm sure your uncle has his hands full with his job, but I have a flexible schedule. Seriously, what rules do you have to follow?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex looked at the text and groaned. Yassen was the most responsible adult in his life and while it was funny, it was also horribly ironic. As for rules, well, it was complicated.

* * *

_-C_

_It's a long story, but I don't actually have a list of definite rules. No crimes except for emergencies, no premeditated murder,_ _and using common sense, I guess. But we were on the subject of Jones; do think it was her or just a coincidence?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen just stared at his phone. No list of rules? What kind of adult didn't specifically list rules out for children? That subject change was so not subtle, but he decided to let it go for now. He would have to cut this short anyway.

* * *

_-A_

_For your information, Alex, I am fully trained for interrogation and that subject change was clumsy. I will let it go for now. The answer to your question is yes. Now, I have to go, since my usual employers insisted I_ _teach._

_-C_

* * *

Alex laughed as he read that. Yes, poor Yassen only stuck with an unwanted trainee. Meanwhile, he was barely dodging Jones and Blunt and treason charges. He tried to picture Yassen attempting to teach a class and didn't see how it wouldn't end in a massacre. Really, SCORPIA should know better. The man was probably well-paid for his time, though.

* * *

Alex went back to his studies without really focusing. Internally, he was torn between telling Ian about his past and letting it go. Ian and Yassen would never, ever mix well. Alex just had a vague feeling. At least the problem of convincing Yassen not to take assignments was cleared up. He was sure Yassen would be smart enough to avoid larger operations he wasn't fond of anyway if Alex told him it would be blown or already was. Alex also had SCORPIA to consider, though. They still needed to fall, and without him they wouldn't, especially if he tipped off Yassen about his warning the intelligence agencies. He was sure the man would pass it along, out of self-preservation more than anything. Avoiding too many dodgy major operations by the skin of his teeth would be suspicious after all. Alex knew what it was like to have violent and ruthless forces gunning for his future. All he could do was keep dealing with it as it went along. The feeling of resignation was back and as bitter as ever. If he had known he was signing up for four years of meddling MI6 agents, he would have just moved on and let this version of Alex deal with it. Alex was fairly sure it was officially an alternate reality, if only because he was changing things and the vacations were different. Maybe he was changing things and the vacations changed because of that? Alex had given himself enough headaches trying to figure it out.


	15. Secrets and Lies

The rest of the week was fairly uneventful, and Alex got to work on his Russian in class. He also texted Yassen almost every day; it was quickly becoming a habit. Ian surveilling the school had been really what had done it. Alex needed something that was his own and private. Alex could never remember not having secrets. Tom was as good a friend as ever. Whenever he got bored or frustrated with his peers, all he had to do was remember exactly what he got up to at night. He could feel the teachers watching him. It was anyone's guess as to why. It felt like the time that the lab had burned down and everyone knew he got away with it. Alex broke down in Friday and decided to ask Tom about it. "Why is does everyone seem to be watching me?"

Tom fidgeted and refused to look at him. "Tom, come on man."

Tom flushed a little bit. "Well, you are kind of on unofficial watch. You're really serious now and…um don't be surprised if you get called to the counselor's office, OK?"

Alex sighed. "Thanks, mate."

Tom was looking at him as though he was trying to see through him. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right mate?"

Alex gave him the _don't be an idiot_ look. "Of course, Tom."

Tom gave him a relieved smile.

* * *

Sure enough, after lunch Alex was summoned to the school counselor's office. Alex decided being polite to the woman probably wouldn't kill him, so he knocked on the door. "Come in, Alex."

Alex went in and sat down at the desk. He had never in his life seen a mental health professional, except SCORPIA's, so he had no idea what to expect. "I'm Mrs. Taylor, your school mental health professional. Do you know why you are here?"

Alex was puzzled. "No ma'am. I am not a discipline issue and my grades are above acceptable. I don't bully people and I have Tom to talk with."

The woman gave him a faint smile. "You aren't in trouble, Alex. Actually, from all reports you seem to be the model student."

Alex was feeling less and less sure about being here. "Then why am I here?"

"Your teachers have become concerned about your lack of interest in other things, Alex. You have also suddenly withdrawn from most of your peers and seem somewhat less happy with your life in general."

Alex wondered why the hell anyone would care this time around. They hadn't seemed to in the past or was it the future? "What's the point of this then?"

They thought he was depressed?! What the hell?! Taylor was not really giving him the vibe she would let him get back to class anytime soon. Alex mentally added dodging the school counselor to his list of things to do. He did not need people nosing around his life. "An evaluation of sorts. If you really are just fine, then we won't be seeing each other again." She handed him a giant packet. "This is, of course, confidential."

Unless MI6 wanted to see it, was the thought that popped into Alex's head. He reluctantly began to fill it out.

* * *

Alex felt pretty confident as he essentially lied through his teeth on the evaluation packet. The woman would probably not be able to help him anyway because people who talked about time travel got sent to the permanent section of the psych ward. After he finished, she let him go to class. Alex was relieved that he hadn't missed the whole thing. The rest of the day was spent with him wondering what was going on. The feeling of being watched was definitely making him paranoid. Alex took a different route every day, since habits got you killed. This particular route wasn't very safe, but Alex was feeling restless enough to actively go into the less...high income areas of London. Nobody bothered him anyway, and he was feeling like doing something reckless. Besides, this wasn't that bad anyway. There were almost no people there at this time of the day. Alex decided to focus on his surroundings and quit trying to justify himself, when he heard a whimper. It didn't quite sound human, so against his better judgement he went into a completely empty alley. He froze when he saw the blood, but let out a breath when he realized that it wasn't quite human. It was dark and red, though, so it was probably a mammal. He heard another faint whimper from the garbage piled in the corner of the alley. When he carefully removed each piece, he found what looked like a puppy. It had pointed ears, dark grey fuzzy fur, and the most pathetic blue eyes he had ever seen in his life. Alex cursed his own curiosity and knew that he was taking the puppy home. "Well done, Rider, you can kill people, but apparently a puppy is all it takes to soften your resolve."

This was not something he wanted to explain to anyone (Ian and Jack), especially how he found it. What kind of sick fuck would hurt a dog anyway? He decided to stop by Tom's house for the first aid kid. His parents wouldn't question the missing supplies; they were too busy arguing. Tom and Jerry seemed more like the sucker for animal types and was likely to keep his new pet a secret anyway. The tube ride was a tense one for Alex. Pets were not really allowed and he kept expecting to be stopped and asked about what he was doing. Thank god for the British attitude for minding your own business, because he wasn't stopped. Alex knew he probably looked filthy, which would help, but still. When he got to Tom's house, he knew the parents wouldn't be home, so he knocked on the door. It was immediately answered by Jerry. "What's up kid?"

Alex put on his most pleading look. "I found this dog and it's injured. Can you and Tom help me patch it up and keep it a secret?"

Jerry shrugged. "Sure, mate. Tom!"

* * *

The boys patched up the puppy after giving it a bath. Jerry stated at it for a solid minute. "Um, Alex, mate that is either a wolf or it really looks like one."

Alex hadn't noticed, but in truth he had thought it was a husky. Actually, he was unwilling to give up his new pet, though he probably should. After its bath, he knew it was a wolf. How it got to England was anyone's guess. "Probably a husky mix. Who ever heard of a wolf in England, anyway? Aren't they extinct or something?"

He felt a flash of guilt as he remembered Ian's pleas to telling him to be careful, but ruthlessly squashed it. Jerry took another look at it. "You're probably right, mate, but let's get him a collar and you some dog stuff."

They all, thankfully, had regular allowance. The trip to the pet store went well, especially since Jerry was old enough to pass as the responsible adult brother. Alex packed all of the stuff in his bag and held the (now sleeping) pup under his jacket. "You two should come over to see him, so he gets used to other people."

They both brighten visibly. "Really, Alex?"

Tom asked. Alex returned his smile. "Really, Tom."

He checked his watch and breathed a sigh of relief. Since it was Friday, Jack and Ian wouldn't be home until late. All he had to do was get there before they did and no one would know the difference. When Alex got home, the house was still dark and he breathed a sigh of relief. Ian would probably make him get rid of his 'dog'. His new plan was to convince Jack to keep it after Ian went on one of his 'trips'. For now, he would be getting up super early to find a place he could build a shelter for if it got too big for the house. Alex knew he had to read up on wolves and cracked open the first books he found in the library. He had made the pup a small bed in his closet. From the books, Alex found out what he would have to do to raise the wolf cub. It was a boy. He supposed he should name his new pet. The blue eyes made him think of Yassen, but he didn't think the man would appreciate having a pet named after him. Alex eventually decided to name his new pet Fenrir. He strongly doubted anyone would get the reference, except Cossack. It was going to be an inside joke with himself. This was such a bad idea, it was almost funny. Alex decided to flip on the news. When he saw the headline, he almost burst out laughing. It would only happen to him. Damn, his luck was bad. At least he could count on Tom, Jerry, and Jack not to make the connection.

* * *

The headline was about an escaped genetically altered wolf cub. Apparently, it was still immature enough to not be able to tolerate sedatives, so Nano robots were not yet an option. It was supposed to have an accelerated growth cycle that slowed down after it matured. It would already be able to eat raw meat. Fenrir would also be almost horse-sized in a few weeks and supposedly vicious and uncontrollable. Alex strongly doubted that part; it was a common scare tactic used with people. Besides, the puppy seemed fairly harmless and no way was Alex returning a puppy to someone who hurt it. He was sure he was a better owner than a black-ops subdivision. Finders' keepers. Fenrir was his. Well, he would have to teach it to hunt and find a way to get raw meat, but still. How hard could secretly owning a dog be? He heard Jack and Ian coming in for the night and carefully put the books on his desks. A pet was the last thing he needed on his schedule, but he would keep the fur ball if it killed him. He checked to make sure his closet door was closed and Fenrir was OK before he went down to greet them.

* * *

"Hi, Jack and Ian. Doing ok?"

They both look at each other and sit down. Jack had put the groceries on the table. "What is it now, you two?"

Ian sighed. "The school counselor called today, apparently she wanted to check on you and tell you that the evaluation came back all clear. You won't have to see her again."

Alex had a feeling that it was far from all. "Isn't that a good thing?"

Ian sent him a penetrating look. "She also said she thought you lied out your ass, but couldn't prove it."

Alex snorted. "I'll bet she didn't put it that way. She is a professional after all."

Ian shot him a glare. "I'm paraphrasing."

Jack was giving her concerned parent look. Alex sighed and gave his best shot at looking nonchalant. "And?"

Ian met his look. "She thinks we should send you to a professional."

Alex was now fired up. "Why? There is _nothing_ wrong with me."

Alex refused to go to any kind of therapist. He was fine. Ian gave him another piercing look that said they would be talking about this after dinner. Jack quickly interjected to prevent the storm that was about to come in the form of a family argument. "Dinner is ready and the groceries are put up."

There was an awkward silence over the entire table. Once they were all done, Ian basically summoned him to the office and locked the door behind him.

* * *

"Alex, I'm worried about you."

Alex mentally groaned. Cue the well-intention-ed, but unfortunately ineffective adult intervention of some sort. "Umm, thank you? But isn't it kind of your job?"

Ian gave him the driest look he had ever seen on the man's face. "Speaking of my job, you get the therapy benefits."

Alex returned his look. "Because I totally want your boss to know my secrets."

Ian actually grinned. "I know, right, it would totally _never_ happen right?"

Ian looked reassured by the little joke. "Not the only thing I wanted to talk to you about, anyway. I want to show you something."

Ian flicked a switch behind the bookshelf and the notepad came out. He typed into it.

* * *

_Aut inveniam viam aut faciam._

* * *

Alex's Latin was rusty at best. "What does it mean?"

Ian looked way too excited about this. "I find a way or I make one."

The metal tube appeared almost out of thin air and Alex followed Ian in. This had better be good. Ian was practically bouncing. When Alex saw what was at the bottom, his mouth fell open. "Welcome to the basement. It's a family secret, so the only ones you can tell about it are your kids someday. It has everything you'll ever need to survive the outside world and so much more."

Ian took him on a tour of the place. It was actually pretty awesome. There was an actual compound beneath the house that he hadn't known about, at least there was this time around. It was one of the few times Alex wished he had been more curious instead of less. The weapons room and the computer room were his new favorite parts of the house. He did wonder how Ian got so many firearms when they were supposed to be illegal in England, but he decided not to ask this time around. They even had a spot to send biological samples for analysis. Alex decided to settle the question about his dog once and for all when Ian left him alone. Innocent until proven guilty, right? Or at least it was in America. Ian took him to what was obviously a target range for knives and guns, continuing the tour that Alex was careful to listen to. "You can practice here, as long as you are responsible about it. Also, don't carry the firearms anywhere near the airport without my help. The paperwork would be a nightmare if Jones finds out I gave you a firearm."

Ian had finally stopped after about half an hour. "So what do you want to do first?"

Alex _really_ wondered sometimes if Ian had used his position in the government to get custody of him. It was better than Ash, though. He decided to humor the man. "Let's use the gun range, Ian."

Ian was looking just a little too excited to have a shooting partner. "Which gun do you want to use first?"

Alex had learned instinctive firing, so he would probably be decent with all of them, though he wasn't sure how the skill would translate. Alex just sighed and picked up the Sig first. Ian handed him the earmuffs. "You wouldn't believe how bad for your ears this is."

The man then stepped behind him and steadied his aim and minutely adjusted his stance. Alex decided to go for the middle and inner rings. He steadied his breathing. This was a world away from the last time he had fired a gun. He fired. Faster than he ever had before. The kickback wasn't actually that bad. After the first shot, he was fine. Alex knew his wrists would probably be sore in the morning.

* * *

Ian sauntered over to the target after he put the gun down. "Not bad, actually this is the best first try I've seen."

Alex almost cursed. Aside from his first shot, he had made a perfect circle in the innermost ring. At least he knew Ian wouldn't recognize his skill for what it was. If Yassen ever saw him shoot, it would be a long, awkward conversation. With a beating afterwards for not trying his best. Then again, Alex was glad for the excuse to practice in private. Getting straight bulls eyes on his 'first' time shooting would be begging for question or a position as MI6's youngest sniper. Alex picked up the other guns and fired a round off on each. He was about to pick up the Sig again when he felt Ian's hand on his. "Why don't you stop for now and see how sore you are tomorrow?"

Alex supposed that was the real difference between Ian and every other training he had. Ian actually cared if he was sore the next day. Alex complied. He didn't really like actually shooting the gun that much. It was still kind of fun, especially when the targets weren't people-shaped and he wasn't being watched by an organization that would kill him if he failed the class.

* * *

Ian Rider was glad he had taken Alex down there. Now they could spend time together when he was home. Alex's shooting was actually above the required standard for certain parts of the army, but the minimum wasn't really his goal here. They would practice until Alex was at least as good as he was. It was actually kind of fun teaching someone who wanted to learn. Most of the agents he got assigned were either too proud to take advice or irreparably bad, in his opinion. Maybe they had the right idea, having Jones influence the school curriculum the way she did, but still, the part of him that liked having the truth was irritated at the alterations. At least he could monitor Alex's education, which was really the only one he particularly cared about. Ian decided to fill out the last of his paperwork and return to work to see what Jones had for him. She said it wasn't particularly urgent, but Ian was getting restless. Ian had also noticed Alex adding things around the house. He wasn't stupid, after all. Ian was sure whatever Alex added to the house to make it more secure would be fine, even though it was already pretty state of the art. He should probably check the plants, though. The last thing he wanted was the neighbor's dumb-ass kids poisoning themselves by eating some of Alex's plants.

* * *

Meanwhile…

* * *

Cossack triple-checked the messages on his phone just to make sure. It was really unnecessary, but he was kind of hoping Alex needed something. Anything. The flimsiest excuse for having to cut his current annoyance short would be wonderful. Hell, he would take searching for Ian Rider and rescuing Jones over this. Needless to say, he was regretting his choice to allow the current head of Malagasto to saddle him with a student. It had started a few days ago, when he came back from his assignment in Spain. When he walked into the class and saw what he had to choose from, he had wanted to bang his head against the wall. He was currently annoyed by the man's breathing. Actually, it was more the situation, but Marc would never make more than a middling level of assassin. You needed to start younger for the kind of training it took to make him what he was. Nile had really been the last truly promising student he had seen, though his thoughts treacherously brought Alex to the front of his mind. Stealthy, secretive, young, and already comfortable with… He shut down that part of his mind before it could finish. Alex had a guardian and was currently unavailable. It would not do to dwell on what he couldn't have.

* * *

The text message came in an hour later than normal. Yassen knew it probably meant nothing, especially since it was a Friday. He had been in the middle of explaining something to Marc for the fifth time when the text finally came. He wasn't really paying full attention to the lecture subject anyway, since he knew it by heart. He cut off mid-sentence to read the text, and felt the annoyance ease off ever so slightly.

* * *

_-C_

_Sorry I'm late, Ian took me shooting._ _I also have a new puppy. I'm trying to figure out how to keep Fenrir a secret for as long as possible. He has special dietary needs. Advice?_

_-A_

* * *

Alex hoped he wasn't interrupting anything. Yassen had an actual job with odd hours, among other things. Besides, his wrist was actually kind of sore and he had snuck the sample of the dog's blood and hair into the machine when his uncle hadn't been watching him closely.

* * *

_-A_

_Don't mention it. I wasn't doing anything terribly important. What kind of dietary needs? And it depends._

_-C_

* * *

Cossack felt a stab of amusement and wondered what Alex got himself into _this_ time. It immediately vanished when Marc asked him who he was texting. The man really was vastly overconfident. Cossack sent him an eviscerating glare before returning his attention to the phone.

* * *

_-C_

_Lots of raw meat. I can use a gun, knife, and snares, but I think people will notice me dragging bloody carcasses around. I've already gotten two offers for psychological help. They seem to think I'm partially insane for some reason. Wouldn't know why._

_-A_

* * *

Alex couldn't hold back his smirk. He just hoped the assassin was bored enough to play along. Besides, he could always point out that the lab tests hadn't come back yet.

* * *

_-A_

_You are if you think I'm going to tacitly endorse you having a wolf as a pet. What were you thinking?_

_-C_

* * *

Cossack couldn't help the faint twist of his lips that Marc was probably just observant enough to notice. Really? He had left Alex alone for a week. Oh well, this should be fun.

* * *

_-C_

_Don't be prejudicial. It could just be an unfortunate, adorable, fluffy husky mix. Wolves are extinct in England. The lab tests haven't come back yet. Besides, I couldn't resist. Haven't you always wanted a pet of your own?_

_-A_

* * *

Cheeky brat. Cossack supposed it was part of the appeal, though. Alex was really bad at being remotely safe. He had, of course, heard about the escaped specimen. Somehow if trouble was in England or within fifty miles of Alex Rider, it would inevitably find him.

* * *

_-A_

_Fine, you can keep your wolf. Don't complain to me when it bites your leg off. As for the meat dilemma, a local butcher should have something appropriate as a cast-off cut. If not, you can always claim you were trophy hunting with your uncle. As for the last question, no I have not._

_-C_

* * *

Cossack felt an unexpected stab of jealousy towards Ian Rider. At least he got someone talented to train. He was better at shooting, far, far better. Oh well, Cossack supposed he could offer Alex lessons if the overprotective (rightfully so, but still) agent ever decided to leave the country again. His thoughts were interrupted once more by his student. "Is it your girlfriend?"

At that, he had a student to punish, after this, of course.

* * *

_Thank you, Yassen._

_-A_

* * *

He was becoming dangerously fond of the brat. It would be inconvenient if he ever had to work against him.

* * *

_You are welcome, Alex. Now, I have a student to punish. Goodnight._

_-C_

* * *

Alex shuddered at the thought of being punished by Yassen. He wondered what the guy had done to deserve it. Alex had a feeling that it did not involve anything remotely fun or legal. Then again, you kind of surrendered all your human rights when you became a terrorist. He hoped whoever it was hadn't annoyed the man too much.

* * *

Cossack froze all the emotion out of his face. It wouldn't do to seem remotely human. He silkily advanced on Marc, who had just registered that he had made a mistake that might be his last. The man froze on the spot. He kept his tone perfectly even and quiet. "Firstly, had you payed attention, you would know I do not believe in having a significant other. Secondly, who I talk to is none of your business. In fact, if you ever question a board member in such a fashion, you will most likely be shot on the spot."

Cossack's moves turned predatory as he invaded the man's personal space. "And thirdly?"

At least he kept from squeaking. His fright was abundantly clear. "At least you payed attention to that part of my lessons. Thirdly, you will be _personally_ learning why it is a bad idea to annoy me. For your future reference, I just happened to have studied under Dr. Three."

Marc made a move to escape that was utterly futile as Cossack struck. With one move, the man was out cold. Cossack sighed as he tied him down and began to get out a few tools. He was explicitly told not to murder the man, but they didn't say anything about what state he had to return in.

* * *

Three days later, Marc returned to Malgasto looking considerably worse for the wear and with a more than healthy fear of Yassen Gregorovich. Yassen was still irritated by the whole thing and as he went into the eating area of the school, he was greeted by Dr. Three. The man had always been particularly fond of people who showed the same proclivities as himself or who had potential. "Yassen, do sit down."

He inclined his head in greeting and sat. "Doctor. Good afternoon."

Yassen decided beginning to eat was probably the best thing to do. While he was in favor with most of the board, it didn't hurt to let them do most of the talking. "What was your problem with Marc?"

Yassen had been expecting the question. Malgasto graduates were treated relatively well. "He was mediocre at best, highly overconfident, and overly casual when I took on an important matter over the phone with a client. Thankfully, it was by text or it could have caused damage to my professional reputation."

Alex wasn't technically a client, but Yassen was at his disposal. He saw the Doctor's expression tighten ever so slightly. "Is further action warranted?"

Yassen didn't really care, but he supposed he wasn't genuinely that irritated at the man. "Not at the moment. He seems to have learned his lesson after I had a _talk_ with him."

The doctor's expression seemed almost fond. "I'm sure he did."

The man seemed to weighing whether to ask him a question. "Out of professional curiosity, are you considering an apprentice outside of our school? It certainly seems like it, considering your standards and attitude currently."

Yassen weighed whether or not to answer the question. "I have seen a viable option, but I wish to further observe him before I decide if it is worth my time. I may pick him and I may not."

The doctor seemed pleased that his guess had been right. It was a half-truth at best, but Yassen wouldn't have given the board members a fully truthful answer anyway. They had long ago stopped being able to see through his lies. Alex would entirely be worth his time, but Yassen wasn't sure he wanted to remove him from a currently much better situation. He would be watching and waiting.

* * *

Yassen had nothing better to do while waiting for an assignment, so he would be staying at the school for the next few days. No one would question multiple phones for him. It was not unusual for him and Nile to carry as many as five untraceable phones. He kept to the few areas without cameras when texting Alex. It would cause unnecessary questions. Besides, if they found out who he was considering, one of them might 'helpfully' kidnap Alex for him. They seemed particularly eager to get him to train a protégé. He was getting up there, for an assassin. Most likely, he would retire within the next four or five years. It would be imprudent not to do so. Yassen didn't really have the patience for any other long term student. There was a reason Nile was the one to regularly mentor students and not himself. His temper was particularly bad. Three seemed to be seeking his company out routinely. He supposed the man would occasionally enjoy a conversation with a non-board member who wasn't utterly terrified of him, but couldn't think of any other reason the man would want to be around him. Once again, the man seemed to be looking for him. This time, it was on his walk back from texting Alex.

"That one isn't a client."

The old man was almost meddling at this point, but Yassen supposed he could indulge the man's curiosity, for now. If he became dangerously curious…Yassen was a world-renown assassin for a reason. "No, it isn't."

He would never win a competition for conversationalists. The doctor decided not to pry and instead walk beside him. "What is he into?"

Yassen bit back a smirk. The man had an obsession with trying to find him someone he wouldn't murder for a student. "He is more into the information business than my usual company."

The man studied him for a bit and seemed to realize he was only going to answer whatever he was asked. "You are not exclusive to our business."

Yassen smiled thinly. "I will inform you of any relevant details, should any arise."

The doctor had always been pragmatic. Most of the board respected his abilities and his privacy. Oh well, he already had another assignment in Switzerland. He would leave for it in the next few days.

* * *

Meanwhile….

* * *

Tulip Jones was actually shocked to find Ian Rider working from home and actually being responsible. The man had literally caught up on almost a six months of paperwork in a week. She had gotten used to ignoring the fact that he usually just ignored the written reports, among other things. He was their top agent by a long shot, not as good as John, but good enough. It was the reason she hadn't sent him on assignment. That and the fact that nothing was terribly pressing at the moment. She supposed she was enjoying the lighter load, too. Incidentally, the new education initiative had not required that much work on her part. The only thing she had needed to do was pass on the idea and the falling rates of recruitment to certain parliament members and they had done the rest of the work themselves. Politicians were far from difficult to manipulate and anything education was an easy sell. Who didn't want to educate children, after all? She had unofficially made Alex Rider her newest project. Jones got the feeling he would be closer to Guy Fawkes than a member of law enforcement. Besides, it was never too early to look for an intelligent successor. Frankly, she didn't understand his open antagonism towards the government. Alex seemed skeptical of serving a greater cause, though she understood how some people could have reservations about the less savory elements of the job. She got the feeling that he genuinely resented the intrusion upon his life. Younger people usually wouldn't think twice about signing up for the job. Spying was supposed to be every boy's dream after all. Tulip just couldn't figure out why he would want to have any kind of contact with Gregorovich or why he would protect the man at risk of going to prison. His reaction to the photos had shown that he was unafraid of the man, but why wouldn't he just turn him in, then? Alex Rider was definitely hiding something.

* * *

Alex took Yassen's suggestions. The fondness he felt for the man didn't excuse the fact that he was Yassen, but he was already comfortable ignoring the squinch of guilt that came with ignoring the man's actions and being deliberately unhelpful to law enforcement. Part of it was spite and Alex knew it. They didn't deserve to catch him. Alex knew that part of him was angry enough at MI6 to let innocent people die. Actually, part of him wanted to walk into the bank and blow it up, but the saner half of his mind told him it wouldn't help anything. The tests had come back positive and confirmed what Alex had already known. His pet was an altered _Canis Lupus._ Ian was out of the house. Probably debugging the school, but Alex had learned his lesson that nothing was private there. The puppy was already grown obscene amounts. It also ate mainly raw meat and Alex didn't have the heart to try to make it eat dog food. So far, Fenrir had been really quiet and the most he had ever done was nip a few fingers and shred a few socks. He seemed to be recovering. Alex guesstimated that he had another week before he was fully healed. Alex decided to take stock of his life as he brings his new dog outside. He had convinced Jack that it was just a friendly stray he was looking after. Alex hated lying, but knew he would not be able to convince either of the two to let him have a dog at the moment, separately however... He took it on his runs with him. Fenrir could easily keep up after the first few times. The wolf seemed to enjoy the runs as much as he did. Alex decided that he was going to invite Tom and Jerry over for the weekend. He was ahead of the schedule he had set for himself. In truth, he could set up the email now, but he had no use for it. He had enjoyed the coding so much that he was going to keep up with it and the languages for now. Alex estimated that he had another six months or so before his Russian was fluent. The training was a new constant in his life, but he was ok with it. Alex wondered what he was exactly supposed to do with his life afterwards. He would never be normal, but he couldn't stand the idea of being a spy. The SAS was an option. He could be a doctor or a diplomat, but somehow he couldn't quite merge the idea of a normal life and his skills. Also, it was...boring. The life he had wanted seemed empty and lifeless when compared to black operations. Alex really wondered if it was a choice between a job he hated and a life he could barely stand. The thoughts went away during the day. With Tom and Jack he was just Alex, another kid from London. By himself, he was more and less. The way he had been raised didn't leave a lot of options. Smuggling? Alex supposed it was thrilling enough to excite him, but it wouldn't get anyone's attention. Part of it seemed nice. He could live on a boat and dictate his cargo to a certain degree. No one would blink twice at another smuggler who was a decent shot. Alex wasn't really sure how he would break that to Jack and Ian or his teachers. It wasn't exactly something you could bring up on career day without getting sent to the counselor. Alex knew he could go for the homeless bum act, too. Maybe just sail around and help random people? Ian would have his hide, but it sounded nice. He could move to South America and live in the jungle. Alex knew enough to survive. Once he had wanted to be a football player, but now he wasn't sure. With Edward and the others, he had been dying slowly day by day. It wasn't their fault that he couldn't be normal anymore. That night, he dreamed of raining fire. It wasn't the usual kind of nightmare. It was like watching a horror movie on mute where everything goes up in flame in the end. It was oddly beautiful with no screaming or pain. The flames devoured the world and only ash remained. At the moment the loneliness would have drowned him, he suddenly felt like he was on fire. The flames move slowly up his legs and arms while he was paralyzed. Burning and burning, but he still didn't feel pain. It was at his chest now and the flames had almost reached his heart. In real life, his lungs would have stopped working and been charred into submission. Just as the flame was about to reach his heart, he woke up. Alex realized he was breathing heavily and sweating. A dark, furry mass was at his feet. Alex ran his hand through the wolf's fur a few times to calm the speed of his racing heart. He sure as hell wasn't sleeping after that. It was three o'clock in the bloody morning. Alex heard a faint rustling downstairs and decided to leave his pet to check downstairs.

* * *

To his relief it was Ian. Alex decided tea was in order. He politely ignored his uncle and set the pot on. It was way too early to worry about whatever shit was going on at MI6. Alex really didn't care right now. He had to go to school in four _bloody_ hours and right now he couldn't care less. Ian was drinking coffee and had been staring at him since he had walked into the living room. Alex was not really in a tally mood, so if the man wanted a conversation, he would be starting it. "Nightmare?"

Came the ever so soft question. "Sort of. I'm definitely not going back to sleep, though."

Soft, warm brown eyes found his. They were like chocolate now, though Alex knew they normally resembled the frozen tundra. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Alex bit back an acidic reply. Ian was trying to help. "No."

Ian sat down next to him. "Do you need to talk about it?"

Alex was not ready for bloody mind games this early. "What do you mean?"

Ian gently rubbed his back. "Sometimes what we need and want are two separate things."

Alex was tired, really tired. "Fine. I was dreamed I was burning alive."

Ian froze for a minute and then kept rubbing soothing circles on his back. "You can stay if you want."

Alex was grateful. He felt himself slowly settling down next to Ian. Alex's eyes were involuntarily closing and he felt himself drifting off.

* * *

Ian Rider payed no mind to his brand new side ornament. Alex was safe here, right next to him. Ian had the occasional nightmare himself. Burning alive had never been featured, but he was sure it was enough to make any grown man cry. Poor Alex. His nightmares usually featured Alex dying a gruesome death and having him here helped his already sleep deprived nerves. Actually, he knew that he was going to be snappish the whole day, even with his coffee. It was already seven and Alex should technically be on his way to school, but Ian didn't want to wake him up. He had already called in sick (his first voluntary sick day ever) and his boss had been so concerned he had barely convinced her that an ambulance wasn't necessary. She had sent him the files to read up for his next assignment. Ian had just decided to veto school for Alex for the day. He was under enough stress as it was. He also went ahead and politely informed the school psychologist that Alex had witnessed his first ever death and was currently seeing someone to deal with it. They had all been very understanding. It was about noon when Alex woke up again. To Ian's surprise he looked alarmed when he saw the time. "Shit! I'm late."

Ian let himself laugh. "I already called in sick for us. You're eons ahead, anyway."

Alex groaned. This was how the legendary illness rumors had begun. "What did you tell them? That I have Me no like school-itus."

Ian snorted. "No, I told them you saw a violent murder and currently seeing a professional to help you get over the trauma. They were very understanding."

Alex was not really happy with the teachers all knowing about his personal issues. "Did you at least tell them to keep it quiet?"

Alex did not want half the school gossiping about him again. "I'm sure they will be discreet."

Alex was sure they wouldn't be. _Adults._ "Who did you tell them I'm seeing, since I'm not actually going to anyone?"

Ian smirked. "Crawley will cover for me."

At least it wasn't Blunt. Alex knew for a fact Crawley was better at the day-to-day lies than him. He remembered his 'immunity disorder' all too well. Honestly, you would think the head of MI6 would be a better liar. Then again, Blunt could have been trying to cut out any other kind of future prospects. Alex barely resisted the sliver of white hot rage he held directed at the man that demanded he do something. Instead, he stuck his tea in the microwave and mentally rearranged his schedule for the day.

* * *

Alex returned his focus to the present and realized he hadn't heard whatever Ian had been asking him. "Sorry, what did you say?"

Ian looked very concerned. "I asked if you were alright now?"

Alex blinked. "Yes, fine. You could have left me alone, you know. Jack is still around here right?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "I'm leaving in a few days, anyway. What kind of guardian would I be if I left you alone after that?"

The one you were before, was the first thought that Alex had. He knew it wasn't really fair to blame his uncle for his future mishaps, but it still stung to have been left in the dark. Alex saved himself from answering by taking a sip of his reheated tea. "So what was your dream about?"

Alex sighed at the obvious subject change. "Like I said, I was burning alive."

Ian just gave him a look. "Details, please."

Alex described his dream in depth, knowing full well Ian wouldn't let it go until he did. Alex felt a little ridiculous about it, but if Ian thought it was important, then he would humor the man. He really felt much better now that he had over ten hours of sleep. It was fine, really. Alex didn't see what the huge deal was. There had been much worse incidents with the Pleasures and nobody had said a word to him, although he had been the school outcast. Alex had not really had the drive to improve his image. The worse-off he looked, the lower the chances of the CIA getting ideas. Alex knew he couldn't exactly out that trick now, but it was a good one to keep in mind. Alex plopped himself down to begin the make-up assignments. The school work for the week took him only three hours, although he had an unfair academic advantage considering his increased knowledge base and concentration due to his mental age.

* * *

Three boring hours later, he was done. The teachers had been surprisingly thoughtful and sent the whole weeks' worth of work, just in case. He triple checked his French essay for mistakes and gave up on killing time by pretending to do work. He snapped the laptop closed. "Finished."

Ian gave him a _don't be an idiot_ look. "Then start on the next days'."

It was Alex's turn to give him the look. "I meant for the week."

Ian just sighed. "That school isn't really a challenge for you is it? I mean you are already studying extra subjects and you got a week's worth of work done in three hours."

Alex shrugged. "Not really, no."

Brooklands was not a challenge, unless you missed most of the classes. Even in his original time, Alex had still had plenty of time for extracurricular activity. Alex just assumed his uncle preferred he go there for mysterious adult reasons. Ian had insisted the place was better and more challenging than private school. Considering what he little he had learned from James at Point Blank Academy about them, he agreed. Apparently, as long as you paid and weren't disruptive, you generally passed. Your grades could be terrible, but they would still pass you. That was the impression he had gotten, at least. Of course, the source had been fairly biased, so he should probably fact check it at some point. Ian seemed to be thinking for a long time. "Would you take assignment meets from me? I mean they wouldn't be due or anything and you could work on them whenever, but I feel like you should have more of a challenge in life. Clearly, making you stick to regular curriculum is a waste of time."

Alex was kind of surprised. "Sure, I wouldn't really mind much."

The closest he had had to this last time was practicing Karate.

* * *

Alex knew he shouldn't really be taking on extra work, but he didn't really want to be bored either. He didn't really mind doing a few things that were clearly related to Ian's work, though. It could give him hints as to what was going on. The first subject was on Guantanamo Bay. The idea was to write a five page summary on varying public opinions on it. Alex also (rather cynically) suspected that Ian might be trying to change his mind on certain subjects, but it was a topic he was passionate about. Alex refreshed his current knowledge on the place with a few news articles any primary sources and then began to write.

_There are a wide variety of opinions on torture or so called 'enhanced interrogation techniques'. Therefore, any place of their usage is sure to be controversial conversation topic…_

Alex made sure to source his documents and triple check his spelling and grammar. This was more like writing for a newspaper than a report, but Alex didn't really mind. He tried to keep most of his opinions about it to himself, since the idea of the paper was that it was for academic purposes. Alex also decided that keeping copies and retyping old papers he had written in his future was not a bad idea. They always had some kind of paper in government to write about controversial items. His teachers also would assign an essay of a certain amount of words in the language classes to encourage using the language in a way they saw fit. Alex could use the practice translating his papers into other languages would bring.

* * *

Alex decided to wait a bit to hand the paper off to Ian. He wanted to translate it first before he got another one. It had also given him an idea. He could write down every bit of technique and things he had picked up in Special Operations as a sort of guide. It would help him not to forget it, but also give him a way to process his memories in a way that would not be overly suspicious if it was found. SCORPIA and MI6 had textbooks and written materials. It shouldn't be too hard. Plus, he could layer the files to make them password protected by multiple passwords that only he would know. He could also write about his trips and help keep his story straight by starting a kind of log. Alex found the idea of making a textbook particularly hilarious; since he was ten, but he felt that it was a good idea. It wasn't like anyone would actually read it, anyway. Alex postponed the idea for now. Ian had finally left him alone and he could go to his room and sneak Fenrir out for a walk while Ian was in his study. The wolf was so quiet, the only way Alex could tell it was there was the fact that he could just sort of tell when anything was in the room with him. He didn't know where the sense had come from. Probably paranoia, but it was nice to know when he had company. He vaguely wondered what Yassen was up to, but decided against texting him before the usual time. Alex wasn't really wanting to at the moment, but there was no reason not to do his daily exercises. Alex was holding himself to Gregorovich's standards and the man would only be prevented from his usual exercises by injury.


	16. When the cat is away…

Ian Rider had been gone for weeks and Alex was bored. Spending time alone to reconnect with Tom and Jack was nice, but Alex was starting to miss the thrill that being with Ian or having Yassen around brought. The mind games and people who could match his observation skills and intelligence were nice, if tiring. Jones had been surprisingly quiet. Alex couldn't help but be relieved that she wasn't interfering with his life at the moment. Even texting Yassen wasn't quite relieving the itch at the back of his mind. Alex had already redone his papers in all the languages he knew, continued advancing his computer skills and Russian, written down all of his missions and edited it into a format that wasn't first person or specific to events. He had also recorded everything he learned that could possibly be important, including politics of turbulent areas. Alex had taken an interest in geopolitics and written several papers on the Middle East just for shits and giggles. In desperation, he had even begun looking at college curriculum after finishing his ridiculously easy class work. He was bored out of his mind. Hell, he might even visit Jones if the feeling lasted for another day.

* * *

Alex knew how to get to her house and past the doorman. No one would question another child in a giant apartment building. There wouldn't be extra security. Moving everything in her apartment two inches to the left would be insanely funny. Besides, it was totally good payback for the missions that may or may not be in his future. Little did he know, Tulip Jones would be coming for him. Today, in fact. When Alex got to school, he noticed the hallways were more crowded than usual. Tom came barreling in his direction. "What is it, Tom?"

His friend was practically bouncing. Then again, he had the same reaction the time the school had given people ice cream for coming to the teachers' night. "Can you believe it?!"

Alex could readily believe a good many things the regular population wouldn't. "Believe what, Tom?"

Tom was almost a little too exuberant for it to be anything good. "The SAS is coming in to speak today."

Alex mentally cursed Death to every hell he had ever heard of just for sending him back to this. Alex quickly plastered on a reasonably pleased expression. "That's great Tom. You're into that sort of thing. It sounds interesting."

Alex was trying to be happy for his friend. Tom liked hearing about the military and spying. He decided to translate the lecture into Russian so he wouldn't fall asleep during the presentation.

* * *

Tom (of course) pulled him through the crowd to get front row seats. Alex sighed and took out the school prepared notepads. The teachers didn't want to look bad and so (he assumed) they had gotten the idea for giving everyone a pen and pad. Alex sat down and began prepping to take the slides down in Russian. He was fluent enough that he would only have to correct the grammar and write the occasional looked up word in English. Tom shot him a questioning look when he titled the notes in Cyrillic letters. Alex glanced around to make sure they hadn't started yet. "Practicing my Russian."

Tom gave him a thumbs-up. The last few people settled into their seats and the lights were dimmed so that everyone could see the slides better. Surprisingly, most of his classmates looked like they couldn't wait for it to start. They were certainly more engaged than with the usual assemblies. Alex looked at the stage and could barely keep his face blank. It was the Sergeant. Of course, the man wouldn't recognize him at the moment. Alex wrote what was on the slides and what the man said on his pad. The pace was not too horrible, but he felt pleased at the amount he wouldn't have to translate later. If he couldn't think of the word, he wrote it in English. This was actually a commonly used exercise for learning languages. The presentation was fairly standard and talked about career options in the army and the like. Afterwards, Jones came on and gave a slightly less boring lecture on the relationship between the armed services and MI6. She glossed over the fact that there was a lot of tension between the two. Actually, both of them sugar coated the entire thing. They left out the parts about your asshole coworkers, nearly dying horribly, and your even more asshole bosses. Not to mention RTI, the nasty things terrorists would do to you, and… Alex could go on for a while. Smithers actually came on as well to talk about integrated technology. It was Alex's favorite of the three. The man was passionate about his job and a passable speaker. Alex still got the horrible feeling that this was some kind of trap. Alex checked to make sure that his knives and concealed firearm were there. He could still feel them, but it was reassuring to know he could defend himself. The uniform was loose on him, since it was designed to fit even the heavier students. Weapons were easy to conceal, if you knew how. He saw Jones making her way towards the table and decided to allow himself to be cornered. Well, he had been wishing for more excitement in his life. "Alex, it's so nice to see you under better circumstances."

Alex respectfully inclined his head. "Mrs. Jones, what a surprise. From what I've seen and heard, you are quite busy with your job. To have you take time from your busy day to visit the school is...quite the honor."

Alex decided polite was the way to go. He was supposed to be representing his school and the last thing he needed was a black spot on his record. Besides, he could tell from her expression that she knew that he knew that she was really here for him. "What did you think of the presentation?"

Jones supposed this sounded professional enough to be overheard. "My classmates seem to have enjoyed it. For the target audience, I think it went well. Personally, I have done quite a bit of research on the subject and found it a bit dry and over generalized, but I suppose being educated on a subject makes a general presentation dull."

I know exactly what you left out, Jones. Don't push me. Alex tried to silently project his want of her to move on. She smiled thinly. "You do have a point, I suppose. Mind if I see your notes?"

Alex knew she wouldn't let it go if he lied and said he hadn't taken any, so he forked over his pad. "Interesting. Studying Russian are we? It isn't taught at the school if I recall."

Alex flashed her a cool smile. "No, I've taken an interest in learning a few things on my own, particularly about civics and the dark side of the government and military."

Thankfully, he was saved from further conversation by the announcement that they were all to go to auditorium. Tom shot him a look that said he would be explaining later.

* * *

After they day was finally over, Alex got a note from an office worker. He decided to read it later. Alex was pretty sure he knew exactly who it was from. Tom grabbed his arm and started walking through the halls. "What was that all about?"

Alex didn't really want to endanger his friend by telling him everything, so he decided on the safer parts of the truth. "Well, I saw a murder recently, but it wasn't too bad. I also just found out that my dad had a dishonorable discharge from the SAS, but can you keep it a secret? She was one of his coworkers and took it kind of hard."

Tom's eyes widened slightly, but he nodded. "Man that must have sucked for you. I'm sorry."

Alex gave him a soft smile. "It's fine Tom, you can tell Jerry and no one else."

With that, the two boys went their separate ways. Alex decided that it was private enough to see what Jones wanted. He was surprised by the neat and elaborate cursive. Alex would have pegged her for something practical, if neat.

* * *

_Alex,_

_First, I wanted to apologize for my treatment of you. I seem to forget that you are not an adult more often than not and, frankly, our opinions of the world tend to differ so much I find myself judging you for those differences. I have been told that I tend to focus on the greater good and forget the individuals that make it up. It isn't really an excuse, but I felt the need to explain. Additionally, the job I do is quite stressful and I face a certain degree of pressure to maintain appearances for the department. If you can forgive me, perhaps we can start over? Hello, Alex. It's nice to meet you. I'm Tulip Jones, but you can call me Tulip._

_Regards,_

_Tulip_

_P.S. I promised a certain coworker I would make sure you were alright. Don't do anything to Crawley, please. Also, I took the liberty of place a trace and my number on the phone your uncle gave you._

* * *

Alex was personally surprised by the surprisingly sincere apology he got from the deputy head of MI6. He snorted as he read the post script. Alex supposed he could put up with Crawley watching his every move outside the house, but it still felt intrusive. Alex decided to send a reply- it wouldn't do to keep her waiting, after all.

* * *

_I forgive you Jones. Don't take it personally, but Tulip really doesn't suit you._

_-A_

* * *

And now he had two people who could kidnap him at a moment's notice on text conversations. Alex didn't really mind about the pictures and he could live without being angry at her for it. It didn't mean he agreed with her or would ever support her views. Sure enough, he could spot Crawley. Ian would have had a good reason to raise the security around him, but he still resented being followed on principle. If Jones hadn't told him it was for Ian, he would have done his best to make Crawley's job especially difficult. The fact that he was being traced made him ultra-paranoid. Alex knew he was on the verge of doing something really stupid, if he got the opportunity. Something like dropping a boat on a convention center stupid. At least he had the challenge of getting Fenrir past Crawley to look forward to. Jack hadn't said anything about him getting giant seemly overnight, but she seemed to know something was off about the dog and stayed far away from it.

* * *

Alex walked into his house and shut the door with slightly more force than necessary. He found Jack waiting with dinner. "Thank you, Jack. It smells wonderful."

Jack smiled at him. "You know that shaggy horse you call a dog sheds all over your clothes, right."

Jack would know, since she did the laundry. "Shaggy horse?"

Alex clutched his chest dramatically. "My poor, poor hound will be heartbroken at such slander."

Jack doubled over laughing at that. "Dinner is served."

Alex grinned and sat down. Jack sat across from him. "So, Alex do we have a new member of the family officially yet or are you still in denial?"

Alex decided to go with denial. "I haven't the faintest clue what you are talking about."

Jack smirked. "Sure you don't. The dog climbed a smooth wall two stories up and slept in your bed without you knowing did it?"

Alex groaned and knew he was caught. Damn, but having a giant fur ball to wake up to was surprisingly comforting. "Fine, we officially have a new member of the family. His name is Fenrir and all we have to do is get him registered and vaccinated."

Jack looked very pleased with herself. "So can I pet him or what?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, you can pet him. He is in the closet."

Alex decided to go up and get him.

* * *

Fenrir looked really happy to be let out early. Alex didn't blame him. Fenrir bounded down the stairs in about two jumps and landed next to a very surprised Jack. She squeaked and jumped. Then, she promptly burst out laughing- for an entire minute. Alex was questioning her sanity. "What on earth is that funny?"

Jack gasped for breath. "You hid that massive thing in your closet for weeks. It's like a real-life closet monster."

Alex just rolled his eyes. "Well, the closet monster needs a run, so am I going to be out for an hour or two."

Fenrir had been almost nocturnal and had kept him out late a few times. Alex hadn't minded terribly, but he liked normal sleeping hours as much as the next guy and was glad he had to do less sneaking around at midnight. Alex fed him chunks of meat he acquired from the butcher later in the day. The guy didn't question why he needed massive amounts of red meat and Alex didn't talk about it. It had worked out nicely. Alex strongly suspected the store might be a front for something less than legal, because they never seemed to sell much and the prices were exceedingly low, but he decided not to look too closely at his convenient meat supply.

* * *

Crawley did his best not to gape at the massive mutt that Rider junior was running alongside. The thing even ate raw meat. Fenrir was an appropriate name, he supposed. He just couldn't work out how Ian had failed to mention he had a dog. Maybe the paperwork was still going through? Crawley nearly groaned when he saw where the meat came from. Everybody in the neighborhood knew that the shop was a money laundering site for the local crime groups. It should not be this hard for him to keep a ten year old safe right? Ian would probably skin him alive if he found out where he had let Alex go. The man was paranoid and very protective. Crawley was still not over the dog. He hadn't thought Ian was involved in any cases with _altered_ animals, but he decided to double-check. It would be just like him to adopt some horrendous lab experiment and _not_ warn anyone in advance. Seriously, that dog was creepy and giant and way too quiet for that size to be normal. It could probably eat the kid for a meal. Speaking of the kid, Alex ran fast. Really, really fast. Crawley was starting to wonder if he shouldn't check if the kid was _altered_ by the end of it. He could probably outrun most agents. Crawley had given up and used the tracker a few times and he was no slouch.

* * *

Ian Rider had his first downtime after weeks of busy mission. He had told Jones to look after Alex and the woman said she put someone on it. Ian would just have to have faith, even if he didn't particularly feel like. He returned his attention to the computer in front of him. It was time to look up those plants. Ian had only recognized one of them as foxglove, which was definitely poisonous. It took some searching, but Ian found a few of them eventually. Rosary peas, oleander, and nightshade were all highly toxic. Ian was starting to sense a pattern here. He supposed he should put up signs to warn the neighbors. At least his nephew had the sense to surround them in thistles so nobody would go near them. Ian decided to look up a few more out of morbid curiosity. English yew, crown flower, and angel's trumpet were also extremely toxic. Ian wondered if there was someone specific Alex wanted to poison. Some of the plants turned out to be extremely flammable or have flammable pollen. Ian was seriously questioning whether or not to quit early and check on his nephew. Why on earth would Alex know that kind of thing? Ian had specifically avoided poison of any kind in Alex's lessons. His blood ran cold at the thought he had next. Gregorovich. Gregorovich would know these kinds of things. Ian knew there was nothing that he could do about it now, but he wondered just how much Alex had learned on his own and how much had been the assassin's idea.

* * *

When Tulip Jones read Crawley's report, she began to wonder how Alex always seemed to find trouble. Really, he had acquired a massive 'dog' and found money launderers to buy meat from in the space of a few weeks. Tulip personally doubted that it was actually a dog, but she didn't think she would be allowed to test her theory. Crawley had refused to go near it, for some reason. She thought it looked perfectly tame, if a bit large and wolfish. Ian could wait until he got back to hear that part, best not to stress him out mid-mission after all. Oh well, she doubted that the specimen would listen to anybody but Alex. She wondered how he had gotten it to obey him. The reports she had read from the Black Operations division of MI6 hadn't said much, but from what she could tell all of them had been highly aggressive towards humans and had eaten several trainers. Since it wasn't a menace to society from what she could tell (or Alex), Jones figured Alex could keep his highly suspect 'dog'. It seemed better off in his hands anyway. Personally, she had regretted the approach Alan had her take. He was usually right, but he could go too far. This time, he hadn't been. It was the first time he had failed to predict a reaction. They were both puzzled by it, but the man hadn't seemed at all troubled. Tulip was questioning all the times she thought he had gone too far, but she hadn't said anything. Alan knew she was, because unless it was Alex Rider, he always seemed to know. Tulip shut down her computer and read the text she had gotten from Alex. She was relieved that he was still talking with her, but suspected he was the type to remember this sort of thing for a long, long time.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was somewhat irked when he finally completed his assignment. He had gotten it done just in time for Ian Rider's coworkers to tail Alex. The assassination had been a particularly delicate one. The target had been extremely paranoid and Yassen had less than complete information to work with. It had taken several weeks for him to find a hole for him to get through. In the end, he had been very successful and the man was very dead. On his flight back, he allowed his thoughts to drift back to Alex. They did so when he wasn't entirely focused on his job. To be fair, both he and Alex could easily run circles around John Crawley all day long. Ian Rider was far from a good guardian, but he was the best in his field, currently. Alex seemed to have inherited and picked up enough from the man. It was a question of both risk and trust. Could Alex dodge his tails without too much suspicion? Would he even want to? Alex didn't seem to want him turned in, but it didn't mean _they_ weren't using him as bait. If he were to visit in person, it could draw unwanted attention from his lot as well. Both the Doctor and D'Arc were particularly eager for him to train a replacement. Gordon Ross had also been particularly persistent, though not to the same extent. They had all _helpfully_ pointed out that there were plenty of child soldiers worldwide who wouldn't be missed. In truth, he did not think he would make eight months without resorting to neck breaking. Yassen had shot people just because they were particularly annoying. He was getting off track, anyhow. The assassin sent a text to Alex and made his decision.

* * *

Alan Blunt was puzzled. There were very few times that he had failed to anticipate someone's reaction correctly. Alex Rider was now on a very short list. The last one had been Yassen Gregorovich. By all accounts he had been planning to disappear, but something had changed, something that ended with the best assassin in the world. People he had failed to predict tended to be dangerous or insane or both. They were very difficult to plan around, mainly because they didn't react the way most people did to manipulation. Even John had been easy to predict. Ian Rider had his moments of spontaneity, but Blunt had a good idea of his motives. Alex was almost fluid. Sure he was secretive and appeared to care for his friends and relatives, but besides that… There was a blank slate and Alan Blunt hated not having answers. He decided not dwell on it overmuch. After all, he had faith in Tulip and she seemed determined to unravel Alex Rider. There were other more pressing matters at hand, anyhow. The other directors he was 'working' with all had blackmail files inches thick, but he still was getting an unfortunate amount of stubbornness from Joe Byrne. The man didn't really like his brand of inter-agency cooperation.

* * *

Alex Rider cursed when he got up and realized it was a Saturday and he had set his alarm for school times. Oh well, he should be up by now, anyway. He opened his bedroom door and was surprised to find Fenrir sitting outside it. Jack seemed paranoid that the dog would eat him in his sleep and had told him to keep it out of his room at night. Alex didn't see what the big deal was. He shut the door behind the massive fur ball, which (true to the announcement) was absolutely enormous. Fenrir shot his bed a hopeful look. Alex snorted. "Go on then, Jack said nothing about letting you in during the day, you know."

The thing could probably use his bed as its own. While he was probably violating the spirit of the rule, he was following the letter of it. Jack should know better after all the crap he'd pulled on her and Ian when he was younger, anyway. They had been far too amused with his loopholes to ground him. Alex usually got off scot-free when he didn't do anything too bad. The giant wolf had made itself at home on his comforter. Jack had gone out for the day, so he had the house to himself. Alex decided to check for messages from Yassen and felt a jolt of anticipation. The man had decided to come after all. Alex wasn't sure how it would go, but he had already decided that if Jack saw him he would be 'an old friend of his dad's'. It wasn't even a lie, technically.

* * *

A voice behind him made Alex start. "You know I would make a comment about you letting a predator in your bed, but you are already meeting me."

Alex couldn't quite keep the smirk off his face. "Yassen, you know, someone should really put a bell on you."

The comment fell out of his mouth before he registered who he was talking to. A flicker of amusement entered the man's otherwise cold, icy eyes. Alex took a good, long look at the man before he heard the man sigh. "Breakfast, Alex?"

Alex shrugged. He couldn't really imagine the man doing something as plebeian as cooking, so this should be interesting. Yassen soundlessly glided down the stairs. The walk was every bit as silent and predatory as he remembered. Alex followed behind him, feeling comparatively clumsy. "So, um, is Crawley still breathing, because I kind of told Jones I wouldn't do anything to him."

Yassen just rolled his eyes. "Yes, your tail is fine. I currently am under the radar, as they say, from my employers and your uncle's."

Alex stepped up to the stove and the man raised a single eyebrow. "What? I can cook you know."

Yassen just looked at him. Alex decided to humor the man and sit down. Breakfast was decidedly quieter than normal, but it was a good kind of quiet.

* * *

Afterwards, the man stood up and headed towards the living room. "It is time for your first lesson, Alex, invisibility."

Yassen was sure it wouldn't take long. After all, that uncle had probably taught him the basics. He recited the same lecture he had gotten from Professor Yermalov, with his own additions. Alex payed attention, even though he knew the basics. It was almost fun learning from Yassen. It had a more serious overtone, but part of Alex was glad he could take this seriously. This was obvious training. Yassen finished as easily as he started. Alex had payed attention to the whole thing. Now for a little quiz. "On a more practical note, Alex, your tail is stationed across the street. What are the issues with this that will allow us to get by him unseen?"

Alex thought for a minute. "Cars will obstruct his view. There is only one of him, so we can go out the back or a window. Also, if he lets down his guard, nobody has his back."

Yassen felt inordinately pleased at the fact he got it all right. He let none of it show, however. "Acceptable."

Yassen decided more question were in order. "If there were multiple tails, how would you do it?"

Alex seemed to give him a look. "It depends. Where are they? How good are they? Do we know if they use regular patterns or just watch the front?..."

Yassen could honestly say that this wasn't that bad.

* * *

Alex figured that 'acceptable' was Yassen for 'you pass'. It seemed to be the only word he used at times. They both decided not to push it and went out the first-story window at the back of the house. Yassen saw his garden in the backyard and passed it without a word; though Alex was sure he recognized the plants. Alex had left his phone at home. He didn't want Jones tracking him down while he was with Yassen. Alex just didn't picture it ending well. They made their way across the neighborhood and went on the intercity train. Alex felt really paranoid following the assassin around where anyone could see them. Yassen was always observant. He had made sure that he changed his appearance enough not to be spotted by anyone but Alex. There were places in England that no one would bat an eyelid at a few gunshots, just like in every other country. He hefted the duffel bag he had brought with him. It contained a few things that would not be ok with the authorities to say the least. Alex seemed a little tense, but he supposed it went with the territory. He tended to make people nervous, but in this case he suspected Alex was more afraid of being found with him. When they arrived at a small town, it was almost ten o'clock. Yassen continued to move into the countryside and into the forest. He noted Alex was very, very quiet.

* * *

After a while, they came upon an area he deemed deep enough in. Alex was feeling twitchy, but he felt himself relaxing as they went deeper and deeper into the forest. With Yassen, it almost seemed natural to just have the two of them in absolute silence (or as close as it got in a forest, he could hear the leaves in the wind and the faint rustling of animals). The man began soundlessly setting up targets. Alex felt the anticipation return with a buzz. Yassen turned around faster than he had ever seen the man move. "I will teach you to shoot, properly. I am known as one of the greatest marksmen in the world. Do not play around with firearms."

Yassen sounded deadly without even raising his voice. "Let me see what you can do."

Alex was unsure if he should demonstrate his skill or not. Alex decided to hit the bullseye every time. He was careful to take a few seconds to aim between each shot. Alex began to get into a rhythm similar to the ones he had seen some of the SAS soldiers do. The pauses between shots were superfluous, but otherwise Alex thought he pulled off normal shooting well. The voice almost startled him. "Your aim is fine Alex, your hesitation is not."

Yassen knew Alex was far too accurate to be shooting normally, but was hesitant to pull the trigger for whatever reason. The targets weren't even people-shaped. Since they were both wearing earmuffs, Yassen decided an incentive was not out of line, of course Alex would not be physically harmed. The earmuffs didn't quite cover up the sound of gunfire.

* * *

When Alex heard a gunshot near his head, a jolt of panic set off his instincts. He fired at every single target faster than he ever had before. He felt a stab of horror when he realized just how accurate he was. Yassen was standing there tapping his foot. "What the hell?!"

Yassen glanced at him coolly. "I though an incentive would improve your shooting."

Alex felt his heart rate slowing down. "Did it, then?"

Yassen shrugged. "Yes, but this is also an important lesson. Fear will eventually blind you. You didn't even register what you were shooting at, did you?"

Alex knew there was no point in denying it. The man sighed. "No emotion is always best when killing, never forget this."

Alex doubted he ever personally would. Yassen decided it was demonstration time while Alex's pulse rate returned to normal. He was better than most of the Malgasto graduates, but nowhere near his level. Alex watched with a quiet awe as the man fired two guns with a stunning speed and accuracy. Alex tried and failed at not gaping. The man paused to check his student's reaction and felt a (well justified) sense of smugness. "You will catch flies, you know."

Alex snapped his mouth shut and colored ever so slightly. It was nice to have his skill appreciated. Alex felt himself flushing. Smug bastard. Yassen was smirking. "Time to go, Alex."

Alex couldn't help but be relieved. The adrenaline was fading and leaving him drained. Yassen left him after they got back from the train station. One minute he was there, the next he wasn't. Alex supposed he should be used to people disappearing on him.

* * *

He sighed as he went around the back and in through the window. Alex had just gotten safely inside, closed the window, and grabbed his phone when he heard knocking at the door. Mentally, he swore and went to open it. It was Crawley. "What do you want?"

Fenrir seemed to sense the fact that he was not in the mood for visitors and came running from the kitchen. The wolf didn't even need to jump before it floored Crawley. "Shit! Down, Fenrir."

The wolf looked hopefully at Alex before getting off the MI6 agent. "Sorry, Mr. Crawley. I'm still training him."

Alex could barely keep his laughter contained at the man's indignant expression. Well, that was bullshit, but Crawley didn't know it. Crawley got up a brushed off the jacket he was wearing. "We should talk inside, Alex."

It didn't sound like Ian was dead, but Alex felt uneasy all the same. "Come in, then."

Crawley sat down across from Alex on the couch. Alex felt that this silence was almost unbearable. "Do you want a drink or something?"

Crawley's face seemed to soften for a minute. "No, thank you. I wanted to check on you, actually. Your phone didn't seem to move all day."

Alex sighed. Damn, he was paranoid. "I left it on the desk, since I was at home."

Crawley gave him a derisive look. "Right, because the dirt and leaves got themselves all over you. Don't insult my intelligence, please."

Alex sighed. "Sorry. What do you want, though?"

Crawley thought for a minute. "Keep your phone on you at all times. People get kidnapped from their houses to, you know. For God's sake, don't run off again. Your uncle and my boss will have my hide if you go missing on my watch."

Alex supposed it wasn't too bad. "And you won't mention this to anyone?"

Crawley was not impressed by the bargaining skills. Still, mini-Rider had a point. "No, I'd get fired at best."

He decided to get up and leave before the kid got ideas.

* * *

Alex breathed a sigh of relief when Crawley left. The guy was no slouch. He pet Fenrir while feeding him. Alex decided to leave Jack a note and take his wolf out early. With any luck, Crawley would keep his distance. Yassen hadn't seemed too suspicious of him. Actually, Alex thought he was surprisingly nice company. Aside from the shooting near him part, but Alex knew that Yassen wouldn't kill him. The man had good points, even though Alex knew he would be uncomfortable with idea of killing someone. Fenrir was done. Alex grabbed the collar and leash and sighed as the fur ball gave him its most pitiable expression. "Sorry, London has leash laws, you know. I'll take it off at the park, ok?"

It was woody and vacant enough that Alex could get away with it. The wolf pouted, but let him put it on. At almost full size, the thing could easily run any human down. Alex supposed that it was kind of the point, but he liked having something to compete against. Alex noted Crawley following him and hoped Ian got back soon. He would have to update Yassen. At least he had one more weekend day with the man. Alex kind of liked being around him. It wasn't the same as being with Ian, but it was fun and even more thrilling at times. When he got back, Jack was waiting for him at the table. Alex gave her his usual greeting and sat down after taking the wolf off the leash. Not that he had told Jack what it was. She hadn't mentioned noticing anything unusual about it, so Alex didn't bring it to her attention. It always sat next to him when they ate. Fenrir wasn't very doglike, but he had enough of the traits to get away with act. Alex just hoped Ian wouldn't ask too many questions when he got home. He was a lot harder to fool than Jack. "I filed the papers for the shaggy horse today."

Alex couldn't help the grin. "Thanks, Jack."

The woman seemed resigned to keeping the fur ball around if it kept him happy. "Do you think Ian will like him?"

Jack just gave Alex a look. "You know him better than I do. Besides, you take care of it, so I don't see a problem either way."

Jack thought she would subtly encourage Alex not to always go for the man's approval. Eventually, he would have to make his own choices, anyway. Ian wasn't cruel, just a little thoughtless at times. He hadn't called at all and it had been almost six weeks. Alex seemed to be trying to stay cheerful for her sake, but she could tell he was lonely. Jack fully blamed Ian for the enormous dog they now owned. It was entirely his fault. Though, it seemed to be growing on her, like a non-symptomatic fungus. It seemed to cheer Alex up, so she was tolerating Fenrir for now.

* * *

When Alex went upstairs, Jack sighed loudly. As she cleaned the kitchen, she let her resentment of Ian Rider simmer. The man had basically vanished for weeks on end, again. It wasn't even the first or the longest time. At least Alex seemed happier with the damn dog. Jack wasn't going to mention it, but she thought it might be some sort of mutant. The thing was actually horse-sized and looked creepily like a wolf. It seemed gentle enough, but it still gave her the creeps. There was a reason she didn't want Alex keeping it in his room. Really, he should get it checked out. Alex had gotten it vaccinated, but that was about it. The vet had complimented him on having such a healthy husky mix and that had been that. Jack would swear it was a wolf if she hadn't been informed they were extinct in England. At any rate the massive fur ball hadn't bitten anyone or destroyed anything major, so she wasn't too irritated. It was totally Ian's fault. If Alex wasn't left alone so often, he wouldn't feel need to seek comfort in large, scary fur balls. Jack hoped the man would be home soon. Alex seemed extra anxious this time around.

* * *

Alex woke up to a giant, grey, furry mass occupying his bed with him. He ran his hands through Fenrir's fur. He hadn't let the wolf in, but it wasn't inconceivable that he got in on his own. Fenrir was supposed to be smart and his door had a push down handle the 'dog' could easily open, especially if it wasn't locked. The wolf opened one eye that was slowly turning the yellow-gold that would mark him as a wolf, rather than a dog. His eyes were still mostly blue, though. Alex blinked and scanned the room. The clock told him it was six in the morning. He decided that it was time to get out of bed anyway. Alex felt a little bad leaving his pet by itself, but he needed to get dressed. He felt eyes at the back of his neck as he finished getting dressed. "Hello, Yassen."

The man didn't so much as make a single sound as Alex turned around. The look seemed ever so slightly disapproving. "What is it?"

The cold blue eyes seemed to freeze over ever so slightly. "You let your pet wolf sleep with you."

Alex sighed. What was it with adults and Fenrir? "Actually, he let himself in last night. Jack won't let me keep him in here overnight."

The man tilted his head ever so slightly. "Technicalities, Alex. So far, I vote the housekeeper highest in common sense."

Alex let the wry smile across his face. "She is down-to-earth, isn't she? How long were you watching last night?"

Alex didn't feel at all violated by it. It was Yassen, after all. Besides, if anyone deserved to get the drop on him, it was the assassin.

* * *

"The whole time, Alex, you have a lot to learn about counter surveillance."

Yassen was as even toned as ever. Alex decided to pet his wolf one last time before going downstairs. Just to prove a point. The assassin's eyes narrowed, but there was no other outward reaction. Alex got the feeling he would be paying for that later. Yassen seemed to vanish again. Alex really wanted to be able to do that. He met Jack downstairs for breakfast. "Is your homework done, before you mess around with the furry mound?"

Alex snorted. "It's been done since Friday, Jack."

Alex never let his homework run until the last minute. Fenrir had followed him down, equally silently. Alex wondered if Yassen had a furry cousin sometimes. He decided to keep that question to himself. "The bank called and said Ian would be back tomorrow."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Jack, we both know what that is worth."

Jack just sighed. "Be careful out there, you never know what's out there."

Alex would have laughed at the ludicrous idea of him being kidnapped with Yassen around, but he didn't want to explain why it was so funny. "I will, Jack. You know how it is, trouble finds me."

Alex shut the door behind him. Crawley seemed to be on a break, because he wasn't in his car. Alex took the opportunity to disappear and headed to the train station. He could almost sense Yassen nearby, but knew he wouldn't find the man if he looked. Fenrir had decided to tag along and Alex had put him on a leash.

* * *

He got to the same spot as yesterday, only slightly earlier. Yassen seemed to appear from nowhere. Alex barely kept from jumping, but he was determined not to let the man prove whatever point he was trying to make. He decided to let the wolf off the leash at this moment. "Are you suicidal?"

Alex felt his mouth fall open at the blunt question. The urge to start laughing was almost overwhelming. "Not that I recall. Why?"

Yassen just fixed him with a look. Alex couldn't honestly figure out what the man was getting at. He took a few risks, so what? It made life interesting. It was Yassen's turn to be puzzled. He didn't see how anyone could be so reckless and want to live. Alex had an enormous wolf as a pet, routinely went along with MI6 missions without proper training, met him, and nearly died on a near monthly basis. More, if he counted their conversations and anyone else would. Well, there was an easy way to check if he was telling the truth. Yassen's hand went inside his jacket. The only warning Alex got was a flash of steel, which he instinctively dodged while drawing his gun. Fortunately, his hand changed direction at the last second or he would have shot the man. As it was, it grazed Yassen's cheek. "Christ, I could have killed you. You're teaching me instinctive firing, you know how dangerous that was."

Yassen shrugged. "It was unlikely you would. You know me by name and on a personal level."

Alex sighed. "Are you going to point a gun at me every single lesson?"

Yassen smirked. "Only until you quit panicking."

He had drawn on instinct as well, but he could control his firing impulse. Alex decided digging the man's knife out of the tree nearby wasn't out of line. Yassen cleaned the new addition to his face. It would be a joy to explain to his employers, but then he didn't owe them an explanation.

* * *

Yassen seemed determined to make him perfectly at ease with a firearm pointed at him, because he drew it at random points during the lesson. Supposedly to test his reaction time, but Alex suspected the assassin had another motive entirely. Namely, putting some sort of fear into him. Alex supposed he had a point, though, because by the end if the lesson Alex could control whether or not he fired when someone pointed a gun at him. At the last time, when he released the safety but didn't fire, he finally got an 'acceptable' from the man. Alex could have passed out from sheer relief at that point. While he trusted Yassen, the lesson was still nerve wracking. At least the man seemed satisfied that he had a healthy will to live by the end of it. "Um, we have a first aid kit at the house."

Yassen huffed. "It will be fine. The scarring will be minimal and I have already cleaned it."

Alex looked sheepish. "Still, sorry."

Yassen didn't look pissed. "As you say, I knew the risks. Besides, you have learned your lesson that you should look before you shoot."

Fenrir took that moment to show up. Yassen actually softened faintly. "We had best go our separate ways. Your tail will find this spot any minute now."

Alex held up his hand. "Goodbye, Yassen."

The assassin smiled faintly. "Until next time, Alex."

Yassen vanished at almost the same time Alex began to hear a faint crunching behind him. Alex waited.

* * *

Sure enough, Crawley came crunching through the brush shortly afterward. Fenrir stayed at his side. "Least you have that bloody dog trained. Do you have any idea how long I've been looking for you? The forest must have crapped out the tracker, because it was useless. Bloody hell, I almost had to call your uncle and tell him you vanished in the woods. Do you know how scary he is when he thinks you're in danger?"

Alex waited to see if he was done. "Sorry, I didn't know the forest would do that. I was just walking Fenrir, since he likes the woods. And no, I don't."

Crawley sighed. "Sorry, it's not really you that's the problem, kid."

Alex snorted. "I've heard worse. Besides, I like my alone time, you know, so this kind of works out."

Crawley just groaned. "And now I have to go all the way back. This is almost worse than the SAS."

Alex knew from personal experience that the SAS was way worse, but he supposed he was dressed for the woods and Crawley was wearing a suit. "It's not that far, but we can walk if running is too much for your suit."

Alex could easily make up that part of his workout later. Crawley was mentally cursing the family athleticism. Why couldn't the kid be a normal, video gaming brat who was slightly chubby and easy to tail? Alex cheerfully hummed a tune as he set a much slower than necessary (for him) pace. Crawley sighed and offered the kid a ride. At least he wasn't the _talkative_ and athletic type. Alex decided to accept, just to pacify the man. He felt like he was under arrest again.

* * *

Alex realized that he practically reeked of gunfire about halfway through the ride. Crawley had decided not to ask how or why the kid had a gun. He was sure Agent Rider was doing a perfectly fine job raising his nephew. Alex was glad it wasn't Ian. The man would have definitely started interrogating him by now. Crawley was quiet through the entire ride. Alex realized he was probably tired. The man parked across his house a good while later. Crawley fixed him with a look. "I assume you can walk across the street without vanishing into the shrubbery."

Damn, the man was a grouch. Alex couldn't keep the reply from falling out of his mouth. "The shrubbery, sure. I'll try to avoid the dirty white vans, too. I can't help it that I'm irresistible to creepy psychopaths, you know."

Alex decided to get out of the car. Crawley made sure to wait until the door closed before sending a two-fingered salute at Alex's back. He was _so_ not doing another day of this. That kid was more slippery than Ian sometimes. Clearly, he could look after himself for four hours until Ian got back. This was getting out of hand and there went another suit. At least he could expense it, this time. Jones seemed to be trying to keep everyone from killing each other. Crawley decided he would be having a stiff drink when he got home. Between Ian, mini, and Scooby, he needed it.

* * *

Alex got up Monday just a little sore from his training with Yassen and exercise. Fenrir had let himself in again. He looked at his phone and sighed. The assassin was a very demanding teacher. Alex was glad that he had gone, despite the duplicity involved with meeting and working with him. Alex put the outings on his ever growing list of things he didn't plan on telling Ian. He carefully replaced his phone in its concealed area. Alex was dressed and down the stairs before Jack even finished cooking breakfast. After greeting her, he sat at the table and watched her cook. Supposedly, Ian was coming home today, but Alex had decided not to get his hopes up. It had been six weeks, after all. What were a few more days? Alex mentally added weeding his garden to the mental to-do list he had for the day. Meeting with Yassen had effectively killed the urge to do something foolish, at least for a while. Alex was pretty sure he was addicted to adrenaline, if that was even possible. People had extreme sports clubs, right? Maybe he could get into one when he was older. Jerry had done base-jumping and mentioned a looser organization that got together as a group. Alex could almost picture a normal job and doing one of those.

* * *

Ian Rider was tired and very sore. The mission had ended rougher than he had expected. Sitting on the plane had been almost unbearable. At least he was back, but it had been six _weeks_. Ian actually felt kind of bad about leaving Alex for that long, but he did have a job to do. Jones had looked after his nephew after a few threats had been made. They were now resolved on a very permanent note. Jones had not been overly happy with her suspects disappearing, but Ian could live with it. Blunt hadn't seemed to give a shit how they got off the street as long as it happened. Ian pulled up next to the house and felt a sudden sense of foreboding. When Starbright opened the door, he could tell something was off. "We need to talk before Alex gets home."

Ian felt a sudden jolt of panic and wondered what was going on. He mutely followed her to the living room and sat down. "Here is the thing, Ian, Alex kind of adopted a giant dog while you were gone. He hid it in the closet and lets it sleep in his bed. I'm not fond of the fur ball, but Alex takes care of everything, so I don't have a problem."

Ian was surprised to say the least. From her tone he had expected something on par with drugs. He was kind of surprised. Alex hadn't even mentioned wanting a pet. "Okay, not what I was expecting."

Starbright rolled her eyes. "Is Alex ever? The dog also really looks like a horse-sized wolf, so don't shoot it."

Ian was sure it was an exaggeration. "Guns are illegal in England, Ms. Starbright."

Jack held back a comment. "Ready to meet the new family member?"

She went up and opened the door. Ian froze at the sight of the most gigantic wolf he'd ever seen in his life came running down the stairs. He could barely breathe and resisted the temptation to draw a weapon. The thing walked up and sniffed him and let out a whine. Jack rolled her eyes. "Alex doesn't get home for another three hours you overgrown mutant. You are going to have to wait for that walk."

Ian was still attempting to calm his heart rate. "Alex adopted that _thing_?"

Jack was now thoroughly enjoying herself. "Yep, won't hear a word against it, either."

Ian wondered how the hell Alex had managed to stumble on the missing member of Project Direwolf. There was no way _that_ was a normal dog. Why can't he have settled for a nice, normal, very mean pit bull? Jack continued on. "He even feeds the thing raw meat _and_ takes it to the forest or the park on weekends."

Ian barely kept from moaning. From the sound of it, Alex was completely besotted with it. "I suppose it'll have to stay then."

Came out of his mouth before he knew what he was saying. Jack smirked. "Better work up some enthusiasm, then. You were gone for a while. Isn't it great Alex is so responsible?"

Ian held back a groan. Responsible, his ass. They were _so_ having a talk when Alex got home. He could swear the housekeeper was enjoying this.

* * *

Jack had the tact to hold back her laughter until after Ian Rider went upstairs. The expression on his face was priceless. Jack honestly wished she had a camera to capture the entirely gob smacked expression. She knew it was passive-aggressive, but couldn't quite hold back her vindictive glee at knowing that at this moment Ian Rider was regretting every minute he had spent out of town. She could hear him unpacking upstairs. Jack decided that a bit of celebration was in order and decided to make Alex's favorite dinner. He could use a bit of cheering up.

* * *

Ian Rider was very much regretting the time he had spent out of town, mainly because of the terrifying new addition to the household. Crawley was calling him, so Ian picked up. "Hi, Agent Rider. How was the meeting with the new pet?"

Ian was pissed. Had everyone known but him? He was _so_ not in the mood. "Screw you, Crawley. You could have at least warned me, you ass."

Crawley was feeling a tiny bit of vindictive satisfaction. "But why would I deprive you of the fun? At least you didn't have to follow it around the woods with no path and a kid to look after."

Ian sighed. "Really, you guys let him keep it? What part of safe includes genetically altered predators?"

Crawley rolled his eyes. "It seems to like him well enough, besides it got trained at some point, which is more than I can say for the ones in our darling colleagues' care."

Ian decided snapping at him wouldn't be productive. Nothing had actually happened. "You have a point there. I have to finish unpacking now. I'll do the report tomorrow."

Crawley was glad Ian saw it this way. "Good news. Boss wants an in person debrief. See you then."

Ian hung up before muttering. "Good news for trees, maybe."

He decided to finish unpacking.

* * *

Alex Rider had no expectations either way as to when Ian would be home. He knew from experience exactly how some of these things went. There wasn't really a set time period or anything. Alex knew Tom could tell he was particularly tense today because his friend was 'subtly' keeping people off his back. He was privately grateful that Tom wasn't the curious type. It would keep him safe in more ways than one when it came to Alex. When he got home, Alex saw Ian's car, but decided to go with his original plan of dropping his backpack inside the door and going to the backyard. It was a nice day today. The wind kept the rare sun from being too hot and since it was halfway until Christmas break, the outside had cooled considerably. Alex wasn't stupid and didn't have a particular desire for random people to die, so he had surrounded his most dangerous plants in thistles. He had changed before leaving school so he wouldn't get his uniform dirty. The gloves and pants protected him from the stinging plants. No human or animal would want to come here by accident. Alex didn't mind caring for his own hazardous materials. He had carefully pulled up the weeds and cut the plants when necessary. In some cases, even the pollen was toxic, so he had made sure to breathe ever so carefully. He picked the seeds and flowers off some of them. Alex knew that assassins weren't the only ones who kept private supplies of heart-stopping poisons. It was the only reason he had even grown these things, despite the risk. Alex knew how to care for and store the plants, but dealing with them was still somewhat nerve-wracking. He had to keep telling himself that this did not make him an assassin. This was just in case he ran out of options or someone threatened his family. Even so, Alex knew he _really_ didn't want to poison anyone. He would keep some on him and some hidden away in the less visible parts of the house. Alex decided he would restart the poison section of the basement. The upkeep was a pain, Ian would object if and when he noticed, and Jones would have a field day if she found out, but Alex considered having the option worth it. He knew that Yassen would probably approve, at least. Fenrir seemed intelligent enough to stay far, far away from this part of the garden. The wolf refused to go within five feet of the thistles. Alex approved.


	17. The Games Get More Complicated

Alex made a point of silently entering the house and bypassing the kitchen where he knew Jack was at the moment. The preparation for storing his plant cuttings had begun about a week ago. Fenrir seemed to know not to interrupt. Alex wondered if it was the smell or if his wolf was just that intelligent. He made sure to thoroughly wash his hands twice, even though he had used gloves. You could never be too careful and accidentally poisoning himself would be the height of irony. The wolf silently walked up to him afterwards. Jack had probably shown him to Ian by now. Fenrir's eyes were now beginning to glow the amber color that would mark him as a wolf. The blue was fading faster by the day and would soon be gone when the wolf was entirely an adult. Alex sat down and thought about Yassen, wondering what the man was up to at the moment. The man had actually taught him something that he needed to learn. Accidentally killing someone was one of Alex's fears since he had been given a gun. Yassen had simply shown him how to control the instincts that would lead to him doing so. Alex knew the assassin prized self-control above almost everything else. Too much fear would get you killed just as much as too little, after all. Yassen wouldn't have lasted very long if he accidentally shot the wrong person, either.

* * *

Ian Rider watched the house from one of the windows that allowed for a wide view of the front of the house. They had been specially placed so that a 360 degree view was possible. No points of approach were invisible. They were also not obnoxiously large, which would make easy pickings for a sniper. He watched his nephew walk in and then out. He must have changed at school because that wasn't the uniform. Alex then left his bag inside and went to the backyard. Ian switched to the living room window that had a nice view of the backyard. Taking care of his poisonous plants, then. Ian wondered why Alex hadn't at least talked to Jack first. Alex seemed to just be taking care of the plants at the moment, but Ian was reasonably sure that Alex was cultivating them specifically for how _special_ they were. He sincerely hoped Alex would include him if he decided to poison someone. Ian would also be rather put out if it wasn't for a good reason, though he knew he wouldn't turn Alex in. The almost disturbing level of influence Gregorovich seemed to have on Alex came to mind. Surely Alex was safe for another few years before he was contacted again? Maybe Alex took after him in more ways than one and wanted to _take care of him_ by himself. Or maybe there was another threat that he didn't know about that Alex was preparing to take care of by himself? Ian knew he was more than a little paranoid, but Alex would tell him if someone was after him, right? Ian could barely suppress a groan as Cossack came to mind, but he hadn't actually threatened Alex. Ian decided to quit before he gave himself enough paranoid thoughts to get committed.

* * *

Alex was privately glad the basement had a full, actual lab. He doubted that he could conceal one in the house or use the outdated one at school. It didn't look like Ian used it much, but his uncle had the backing of MI6 and its labs, while Alex was technically conducting preparations for illegal black ops. One of his relatives must have had an independent streak, he supposed. Either way, it was to his advantage. Alex wondered if it was worth it to try to get supplies of the more dangerous kind past Ian or if he should just wait until Ian left for weeks on end again. In the time Ian had been away, Alex could have stolen a copy of a permit for hazardous chemicals, forged one for himself under a fake name, found and cajoled a criminal into getting it for him, and gotten it into the house under Jack's nose. There were people who would act as couriers and not ask questions about a kid delivering an order for restricted items. Drug dealers and their like tended to go young for messengers. Alex decided not to pull that one on Ian quite yet. It might get him in actual trouble. Plus, Ian was going to be watching him extra closely in case his coworkers missed something. In the man's defense, they had. Alex still felt like his privacy was being invaded. It may be a double-standard, but he was not really the happiest with Ian for spying on him. Shouldn't his uncle get enough of that at his job? With the rampant paranoia and backstabbing in intelligence agencies, Alex would expect him to have his hands full.

* * *

Alex decided to go downstairs, since it was dinner time and he couldn't avoid the inevitable confrontation much longer. Fenrir went with him, a furry side pressed against his own. He really was fond of the wolf, despite the massive size and subterfuge that his ownership had required. At any rate, the 'dog' was now legally his. Alex pet Fenrir as he walked beside him. Jack was her usual cheerful self. "Hey, Alex."

Alex smiled. "Hey, Jack."

Alex sat down and decided to begin eating. It was one of his favorite dishes from Jack's recipe list. "Thank you."

Jack felt her heart almost stop at the warm, loving look Alex sent her way. He really was a sweet boy. In a few years, women would be all over him. "I swear that thing gets bigger every day, Alex, when do you think it will quit growing?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Pretty soon. I mean, his paws are pretty much proportional now."

Fenrir went to the umbrella stand and got his lease and collar. After returning to Alex's side, the two were promptly dropped in his lap. Jack sniggered. Alex gave the furry rat a look. It had the second most pathetic expression he had ever seen. Alex sighed. "I'll walk you after dinner."

At that, Ian walked in. "I'll be going with you two, then."

He didn't trust the giant wolf, no matter how much Crawley told him it was perfectly harmless for Alex. Ian didn't even want to think about how much Black Operations had paid to make sure they were large, highly intelligent, and extremely predatory towards humans. Ian sat down and pondered the current situation while he ate. Actually, he was genuinely curious as to why _Fenrir_ hadn't turned out like the rest of the wolves. Most of them had been so aggressive that both they and the project had been terminated. The others had been almost indomitable and had only eventually listened to one person. Then again, this wolf only seemed to like and obey Alex. Ian got the distinct feeling that it only tolerated other people because Alex wanted them around. Maybe he was paranoid, but Alex hadn't read those files. Plus, both the teeth and claws on that thing could eviscerate a grown man with a single bite or swipe. Alex had probably thought he wouldn't get the reference, but SCORPIA weren't the only ones who were familiar with mythology and symbolism. He wondered, vaguely, if Gregorovich would have gotten the anvil-sized hint. Probably. Ian knew he was fixating, but he couldn't really help but be concerned with what exactly the man wanted with his nephew. Speaking of which, they needed to have a talk about his new botanical interests. Ian had noticed that the basement had both been used and that some of the dormant section had been activated. Alex had cleaned the lab gear, at least. Ian couldn't tell if it had been used or just set up for use. His knowledge of forensics was limited.

* * *

Alex knew that when Ian was thinking that hard, the game was near or up. Wonderful, he could hardly wait for the lecture on why poison was evil. Alex was answering and on automatic motions as he had another flashback to his time before.

* * *

They had all written an essay on heroes. Alex didn't believe in heroes. He had written as much in essay. There were actions and deeds that were heroic, of course, but the quintessential do-gooders didn't exist. They were fairy tales for gullible children. When he had been summoned to the school counselor's office, Alex had a feeling he should have bullshitted the entire thing and made it about the army like everyone else. The woman had been, in his opinion, nearly hysterical. Hysterically naive, that is. She hadn't listened to a word he said. She had been one of the people who saw the government as good and everything else pure evil. Alex barely kept himself from laughing manically through her lectures on why heroes were a thing, among other things. She had made his life difficult and Alex considered it a waste of time. Also, she had been convinced he was a suicide risk and tried to integrate him into his peers. It had been an epic failure to say the least. Alex had taken care of most of it by glaring down anyone he didn't feel like talking to. Most of the student body had either ignored him or thought he was kind of terrifying. Alex preferred solitude after what had happened with Brooklands, anyway. He decided to pick up the pace and put it out of his mind before he was tempted to misuse his new poison supply.

* * *

Fenrir seemed to love it whenever they ran together. Alex had already fed him with the food he'd set up so he only had to go by once a week. The wolf consumed quite a bit of raw meat. Since Alex was used to the gore, he didn't mind feeding him at all. There were sometimes even recognizable organs. Fenrir easily outpaced him. Ian was at his side. So far, neither of them had said a word. Alex checked to make sure no one was watching and let the wolf off the leash. As Fenrir bounded about the giant park in near darkness, Alex let a small, fond smile appear on his face. He heard a yip from about fifty meters away and decided to chase the fur ball down. Ian was struck silent at Alex's complete willingness to chase down a predator in almost complete darkness and on uneven terrain. Alex walked up to the wolf after slowing down. The nights were beginning to become colder. The wolf was standing and looking as though it were on high alert. "What is it, Fenrir?"Alex drew his knife as stepped to his dog's side. The wolf began to dig. Alex was impressed at the sheer amount of dirt the thing could move with its paws. Just as suddenly as he had started digging, the wolf stopped and jumped out of the hole. Alex decided it was time for a flashlight. Ian got there just as the beam turned on. Alex felt a sense of foreboding as he shine it down the hole. "Oh, shit."

Came out of his and Ian's mouth at the same time. Inside the almost four-foot deep hole was a partially decomposed corpse was. There went his night. Alex wondered how the wolf had known to dig it up in the first place. Fenrir was looking proud of himself. Alex found himself more concerned about how he was ever going to get the wolf clean than the corpse. Well, it was dead already, so it could wait, right? Alex recovered from the shock first. "Good boy, Fenrir."

The faint nausea came from the smell that was now beginning to permeate air. Alex turned to Ian. "Are we going to call the police or just leave it?"

That seemed to startle Ian out of his stupor. "Time to call the police."

Alex just stood there and waited. Fenrir seemed to guess he wasn't in the mood because he just sat next to Alex. Alex was privately grateful for the warm, furry wall pressed against him. He decided attaching a leash was a good idea so the officer didn't hit him with a fine. The police got there in record time. Alex had kept the flashlight on so they could find him easier. Ian must have priority status or something. Alex had a feeling it was going to be a long night. Fenrir refused to be separated from his side. Actually, he growled at almost everyone who came near him with a different leash. Alex decided it was time to move things along before someone got mauled. "I'll ride with him. He...doesn't like strangers."

The officer gave him a once over and shrugged. "As long as one of us rides with you."

Alex thanked his lucky stars he looked like a harmless ten year old. The ride to the station while the others set up the crime scene was brief, but tense. Most of the officers were visibly afraid of his 'dog'. Ian was sitting next to them. When they got off, another officer tried to lead his wolf away and nearly got his arm bitten off. Alex liked that his pet was completely loyal to him, but this was kind of overkill. "Territorial, is he?"

One of the officers asked. Alex ran his hands along the less dirty parts of Fenrir. "Maybe a little."

Ian rolled his eyes. That 'dog' was entirely focused on staying near Alex. "Um, we have to get soil samples off the fur for evidence. At least his mouth is clean, do we don't have to check his stomach."

Alex sighed. This was going to end well. "I can go with you for that, too."

The officer looked really hesitant to go near the dog. Alex got up and followed the man. Fenrir padded alongside him. Since the evidence room had a clear part, Alex was told to wait outside in hopes the dog would cooperate if he was still visible. The technicians looked even more nervous than the officers. Fenrir was giving them the evil eye the entire time and shooting longing looks at Alex in between. Alex caught more than a few sighs of relief when they finished. While he didn't really blame them, Fenrir was really not that bad. The wolf went immediately to his side when they opened the door. Alex knew he shouldn't feel so satisfied at that, but he was. Fenrir was glued to his side for the repetitive interview. Ian was too, but Alex figured it was because of the need for a guardian to be present for this. He gave anyone who got within five feet of Alex the evil eye (except Ian). After the thoroughly creeped out officers let them out, they wanted a separate interview with Ian. Alex wanted to groan. He went to sleep in the chair they had given him, with Fenrir sitting next to him. He woke as soon as the door opened. It was one o'clock in the morning by the time they got done. Alex had texted Jack before he went to sleep telling her they would be very, very late and not to wait up. At least the officers dropped them back at home. Alex knew he had to bathe Fenrir before he went inside. His vision was nearly double from exhaustion, but the sleep had helped. He turned on the light to the back porch and grabbed the hose. Fenrir was cooperative and shook himself out afterwards. At least there wouldn't be puddles. Alex walked into the house and noticed that it was nearly three in the morning. Shower time and bed. He climbed the stairs and stripped and showered in about fifteen minutes before collapsing into bed. Alex would text Yassen in the morning.

* * *

Ian made the executive decision to message the school that Alex wouldn't be going in. He even got a letter from the police department to send to them. The officers had been understanding, especially after they had gotten a special call from Special Operations. Alex had been passed out when they finally got to leave. Ian heard him come in at nearly three in the morning after washing the mutt. He would have forgiven his nephew for the dirt. Ian had been messaging his boss the details and gotten Crawley on it. The jurisdiction was going to be complicated because of his job. Jones would investigate on principle because it was him and the police wouldn't trust them to share the details. Hence, the chief and Jones would argue until the sun rose. Ian was glad he wasn't going to be involved in that cluster. Only Alex would have a genetically altered wolf who dug up dead bodies on its daily walk. The sense of smell on that thing had to be amazing to catch a body. There were corpse dogs and drug dogs, but the wolf was said to have just as good, if not better, a sense of smell. Alex really must love that damn thing. It seemed to love him back, at least. Actually, the wolf had all but scent-marked him. The fact that it was horse-sized had only served to terrify the entire station. Ian decided he was going to sleep now.

* * *

Alex felt better about after having about seven hours of sleep. He decided to text Yassen before the assassin came sniffing around. He opened the phone and saw three unanswered texts. Each one sounded progressively more menacing.

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, is everything going OK?_

_-C_

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, you are late and I saw they found a body on the news._

_-C_

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, if you do not answer in twenty-four hours, I will assume you are the dead body and come to avenge you._

_-C_

* * *

Alex rolled his eyes. Really, Yassen? Ever heard of a sleep-over? Honestly, the paranoia award was currently a tie between him, Ian, and Jones. He decided to text the guy back before he jumped the gun, so to speak.

* * *

_-C_

_I'm fine Yassen. For your information, I found the body. The police kept until one in the morning and the dog kept me until three in the morning. The wolf dug it up when we were on a walk._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack felt an unspeakable sense of relief when he finally got a message from Alex. When he had figured out that Alex enjoyed risk-taking, the feeling of dread had slowly emerged. He hoped teaching Alex self-control would prevent him from finding trouble. The idea behind his lesson was that he should look before relying on instinct. Yassen was back to receive another assignment. If he took long or unusual breaks, the board would notice in their ever-vigilant paranoia. Since he didn't have a meeting for another hour and he had already gotten his four hours of sleep, he decided to text Alex back.

* * *

_-A_

_Why did you go out at dusk? It doesn't seem safe, no matter what neighborhood you live in._

_-C_

* * *

Alex knew he really shouldn't have, in retrospect. Still, he could pretty much take care of himself. Ian had been with him and he had done it dozens of times with only Fenrir. He decided to amend that part out. The assassin was probably pissed as it was.

* * *

_-C_

_Ian was with me. He isn't you, but I was safe enough. I had other things that required daylight._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack supposed that was safe enough. He couldn't really complain. Alex carried and could shoot competently enough. The wolf was an unknown factor, but it seemed protective of Alex. He had felt particularly paranoid, since he left Alex with MI6. They didn't exactly have a spotless track record when it came to kids either. Jones would probably protest anything of that sort, but Blunt could easily keep a secret from her.

* * *

_-C_

_Be careful, Alex. And never, ever trust anyone who works for an intelligence agency. Loyalties are difficult to predict and can change at a given moment. I have to go, but text me later._

_-C_

* * *

Alex almost smiled at the warning. It was about as warm and fuzzy as Yassen would ever get. The man was on his way to semi-trustworthy status. Alex had no illusions about who Yassen was and what he did, but the assassin seemed intent on not harming him. Maybe someday...no, it was impossible. As much as he loved Ian and Jack, he knew they would never quite understand him and Yassen. Alex barely understood it himself. The dynamic that was slowly growing between them was less homicidal than last time, but it could go either way this time.

* * *

Cossack snapped the phone shut with a click. Alex should be able to stay out of trouble for long enough with his uncle back around. Then again, Ian Rider was not the most responsible of guardians. Alex could take care of himself, unless someone got pissy enough to hire professionals. Cossack decided his meeting would need the full extent of his concentration and shut down any stray thoughts he had. While he was standing outside, Nile came walking up. Cossack mentally repressed a sigh. Any assignment that required both of them was sure to be extra _fun_ or failing and in need of success. At least the man who was Rothman's second knew better than to try to talk to him. Nile was more casual than he would ever be. Both men were tense as the door opened to admit them. Rothman was present, Cossack assumed it was because of Nile or perhaps it was her turn to lead a large assignment. Yassen only kept a loose track of who was in charge because all board members were equally paranoid and ruthless. Rothman took her time beginning the assignment. Mind games. Finally, she handed them both their files. "We've been having a bit of trouble with a kidnapping. Hopefully, sending in you two will fix things right up. You'll be leaving tomorrow, so you can both still come to my dinner party."

Yassen bit back a curse at the aforementioned party. He knew orders when he heard them. This one of the times he questioned the sanity of a board member. Inviting deadly operatives to a party with alcohol. Joy. He was taking extra weapons.

* * *

Nile bit back a sigh at his boss's overt gaming. At times, he wasn't the most subtle, but he could appreciate the need for it at least. Everyone knew full well Yassen Gregorovich was not a man you invited to a party, unless you wanted someone to have an 'accident' or a 'spontaneous' heart attack. Actually, this meant he got to go to because he was supposed to make sure that the staff was reasonably safe. Knowing Gregorovich, he might poison them out of pure spite. His boss was more uptight than he was. She had a tendency to be temperamental, impulsive, and considered the solution to everything to be more money. Not that he would say so, but both he and Cossack knew it for a fact. The man was a professional. It didn't stop Nile's blood pressure from increasing when the man suddenly turned towards him. "I will be in my room, going over the papers. I will meet you in the atrium of Rothman's house at eight o'clock."

With that Yassen stalked off. Nile took that to mean that most of the array of heart-stopping poisons would not be coming. He hoped no one was dumb enough to provoke the man. Usually, he would just hide somewhere no one would find him. Nile shrugged. He had papers to read and he had long ago quit fathoming at Gregorovich's mind. No one had figured him out and no one probably ever would.

* * *

Alex had been up for hours by the time anyone came down the stairs. Fenrir had been walked (at a different park). He had broken into Ian's office and left his paper on the table and relocked the door. Alex was fully able to make his own meals and had forgotten about the fact that he was still in Chelsea with Ian and Jack. Jack had walked in on him making his own lunch. "When did you learn to cook?"

Alex had jumped a little. Fenrir had come down the stairs and sat in the kitchen, like a giant shag rug. Alex had been relaxing. "It's more assembly, in this case."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Answer the question, Alex."

Alex actually had to think for a minute. He had almost always been able to take care of himself. He didn't actually know. "Don't remember. I've never been able to remember a time I didn't know I could just stick something in the microwave."

Actually, he had figured most of it out by himself and watching other people. Ian had taught him the camping version when he was very young. He didn't think Jack would approve of that little tidbit. Jack wondered if Alex had actually wanted to learn or if he had to. She was going to phrase this as gently as possible. "Alex, what was your life like before I came along?"

Alex wondered why it mattered. She was here now, wasn't she? "Does it matter? You are here now."

Jack turned him around to face her. "It matters because I care and I want to know."

Alex sighed. He didn't suppose he minded that much. The memories were very hazy a best, anyway. Alex just had a feeling that Jack wouldn't like it very much.

* * *

Jack personally wondered whether she should be asking, technically it was none of her business, but she wanted to know. Alex returned to making his sandwiches. For a second, she thought he wasn't going to answer her. "I don't remember much from before I was five."

Jack supposed it was that way for everyone. "And after?"

Alex had to think about it for a minute. It seemed a like a lifetime away. "Ian had a lot of trips. I usually went with him, since they sometimes lasted months. We had a few housekeepers that didn't last very long. I usually took care of myself or Ian did."

Alex would never forget those lessons or living in various foreign countries. It had been really fascinating, but kind of lonely. At any rate, he was able to blend in those countries like a native. Alex supposed that had been the point. Moving around with Ian had been pretty fun, even if he hadn't really made any close friends. Jack groaned. That was nowhere near normal. Alex seemed have turned out ok, but still… "Did you have friends you made or something?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I was five, six, and seven, Jack."

That told her absolutely nothing. She had feeling Alex wouldn't go into much more detail. Alex decided it was time for a subject change. "Lunch, Jack?"

Jack was glad she didn't have to cook for once. "Sure."

* * *

Ian Rider got down the stairs just in time to see his nephew finish up a sandwich for Starbright. They seemed perfectly happy eating with the pair of them. He felt a stab of unexpected jealousy. He knew a sandwich didn't necessarily mean anything and that it was completely irrational, but he still felt jealous for a reason he couldn't quite determine. It didn't help that he knew full well he was away a lot. Alex turned towards him. "Sandwich, Ian?"

Ian waved his nephew off. "Thanks, I'll make my own."

They were all sitting and eating lunch together. A knock came upon the door. Ian got up to answer it. Since he was not going to work today, he had dressed in shorts and a t-shirt. Alex followed a couple steps behind. He was done anyway. To his surprise, it was Tom and Jerry. "What's up guys?"

They both step past Ian and into the door. Tom sounded partially strangled. "Can we talk in private?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure."

This hadn't happened last time, so what was going on? Alex led them to the living room and shut both the doors and all of the blinds. "Okay, what's going on?"

Jerry started. "Mum and dad really lost it this time. Throwing stuff and all. Can we stay a few days?"

Alex was not about to say no to that. "Sure. Just set up in one of the other rooms."

Both of them looked extremely relieved. Jerry went upstairs. Tom stayed behind and shut the door. "Alex… I'm not sure where to start."

Alex gave him a dry look. "At the beginning, Tom."

Tom rolled his eyes, but got a lot more serious. "I'm not sure we can go back there and… It's better if I just show you."

Tom made a move to remove his shirt. The movements were hesitant and like he was in some sort of pain. Alex helped him out. Since they had played and had gym together, he was we used to the sight of other shirtless boys. Alex immediately saw what Tom had been trying to hide. Light bruises were already forming. Alex felt a sliver of white-hot rage begin to burn at the back of his mind. In the past, his parents had never gotten physical, except with each other. What had changed? "Oh, Tom…"

He breathed. His friend grabbed his arm. "You can't tell anyone. Promise?"

Alex knew he was going to regret this later, but couldn't bring himself to say no. "I promise, Tom."

Then again, Alex didn't actually have to bring in adults to do something about this. He already began forming a plan at the back of his mind as he helped Tom back into the shirt. It never even occurred to him to talk to Ian or call the police. He could do it, sure, but this was… _personal_. The words of Yassen Gregorovich rang in his ears and told him not to get overly emotional during an operation. SCORPIA was known to have clean, professional ops and so was MI6. This would be clean.

* * *

Alex stalked back into the kitchen, careful not to telegraph his rage. Ian could probably tell, but Jack wouldn't. When Alex entered the kitchen resembling an angry panther, Ian started to get worried. Alex kept his tone perfectly chipper. "Can Tom and Jerry stay over a few days?"

Jack smiled. "Of course, sweetie."

Ian wasn't feeling any less uneasy. It wasn't his friends, but something to do with them. It wasn't like they couldn't afford it. Money was pretty much a non-issue as far as this went, anyway. Alex gave Jack a tight smile. "Thank you."

It was time for him to go for a walk. "Fenrir!"

The wolf came up to him with the collar and leash right away. "I'm going to walk the dog. See you guys on a bit."

Alex immediately took off after leaving the house. The wolf kept up with him effortlessly. It was a bit of a stiff run and Tom's neighborhood wasn't the best, but it was time for a look around. Alex was doing his best to stay calm, but he knew that if someone set him off, they might actually die. After he got to Tom's street, he took a few breaths. Alex was glad he exercised every day because the run would have exhausted him otherwise. When he got to Tom's house, it was oddly quiet. Alex checked the driveway- looks like top of my shit list numbers 1&2 are out. Alex decided B&E was excusable under the circumstances. The street cameras had been 'killed' by rocks. He pulled out the lock pick set he had _borrowed_ from the Basement. Call him paranoid, but he knew it wouldn't do any good in the house. Alex scanned the street before striding up to the door. He was in luck. The lock was more than a few years old and, even when it had been new, it was known to be easy to pick (in certain circles, anyway). It took one try and Alex knew he was rusty. The door swung open. "Hello?"

No answer, which was good.

* * *

Alex decided he may as well give himself a legitimate reason to be there and packed a bag for Tom and Jerry. Tom would need his uniform for the rest of the week and both would need other clothes and schoolwork and the like. With a very convenient duffel he found in Jerry's room, two people were packed with necessities and a few personal effects with military efficiency. He slung it over his shoulder in case anyone walked in on him. Alex knew he shouldn't stay much longer, but he couldn't help but wonder what two adults could possibly argue about so much. He went to the one computer in the house. It was also very old and laughably easy to break into. Now that he had their IP address he could do a variety of questionable and highly petty actions to said computer, remotely of course. Alex went through a quick overview of their finances. Money was one of the most common things he was familiar with adults (criminals) arguing about. A quick look was all Alex needed to tell that they were not outstandingly wealthy, but not in any trouble either. The computer didn't have much else on it, so he moved on to their room (gag). What? He was mentally sixteen. They didn't have much of personal effects, but if the unopened ring cleaning kit was anything to go by, their marriage wouldn't last much longer this time either. Alex decided to risk opening the nightstands. There were some things you didn't want to know about adults, you know? Even as an almost adult mentally. Alex found nothing special in the fa-Shit 1's nightstand. Shit Parent 2 had a journal. Alex decided to take that. With any luck, they would follow their usual pattern of blaming each other for anything that went wrong in the house. He put that in his jacket. Alex had options, which would depend on what the journal had. He decided to start thinking of them by nicknames. Never name the target. Fenrir was outside. Alex couldn't risk his fur getting everywhere. He hefted the bag back onto his shoulder and exited the house. It had been nearly three hours since he left. By the time he got home, it would be near dinner time. Oh well, at least the trip had been good for something. Alex felt no need to disguise the graceful, silent walk on the way back. He was still pissed as hell, but it was turning into a cold, deathly fury. It had been the first time he was tempted to use his wide array of heart-stopping poisons. On reflection, walking around with temptation of the murderous kind was not a good idea. As a kid, he could hardly get custody of his friend. Jerry might, but then Tom would have to go into court. Alex figured the parents probably wouldn't notice or care where their kids had gone for a few days, especially with the clothes and books gone. Fenrir seemed to scare off anyone who thought of approaching him. By the time he got home, it was dinner time. The wolf was pretty much walked out at least. Alex was to. Alex went up the stairs quietly and dropped the bag in the room the two of them had obviously set up. The two of them and Jack were out in the garden. Alex decided to go out and meet them. Ian was probably in his office or something. He was kind of avoiding the man, since the body-finding incident. Also, they hadn't talked about his plants or his 'dog'. Alex had done the work his teachers sent him this morning and was set for the next day. They probably thought he was some kind of death magnet. Speaking of Death, was he ever going to hear from the bastard again or was it a one-off? Who knew? Alex still had the ruddy tattoo as proof he wasn't insane, at least. If he saw Death he would ask the guy to move it somewhere less visible and maybe not a flower? Alex refocused on the present when he got to the garden. "Got your stuff and moved it to your room."

Tom looked at him. "Thanks, man."

Alex gave him a slight smile. "No problem."

Trust Tom not to ask him how he got in without a key. They could have a spare somewhere, he supposed. Jerry gave him a knowingly raised eyebrow, but otherwise didn't comment. Jack decided it was time to rag on Alex. "Do I have you two gentlemen to thank for the walking shag rug?"

Jerry laughed. "No ma'am. That was all Alex. He brought it in and found it."

Alex mock clutched at his chest. "The heart-stopping betrayal never ends. E tu Brutei?"

The four promptly burst out laughing.

* * *

The two guests had dinner and them and Jack decided to turn in early. Tom and Jerry had homework and Jack had an earlier morning. Since Alex was done, he decided to wait on the couch for Ian with Fenrir. Ian did a double-take on finding him and Fenrir on the couch together. Alex had decided to go barefoot in the house. The journal felt heavy in his jacket, but he knew they were probably overdue for another talk. Ian still mentally panicked at the sight of Alex's new furry companion. It was just huge and wolf-ish and had its mouth uncomfortably close to his nephew's neck. He decided it was time for the poison and deadly pet talk, along with the finding dead bodies in the park talk and the something is wrong with your friends talk. "Alex, we need to have a talk."

Alex couldn't help his snarky reply. "Probably more than one Ian, where did your counting skills go?"

Ian smirked. "They were eaten by your mutt as a side dish to your common sense."

Alex knew a winning burn when he heard one. Ian was who he got the snark from, after all. Still didn't see the issue with Fenrir, though. He gently pet the wolf some more, before getting up to go with Ian. Fenrir got up and followed him. "The shaggy horse stays outside the office."

Alex have Ian his most innocent look. "But why?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "That look doesn't work on me, remember? I'm the one who taught you it."

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was getting ready for a party he did not wish to attend. Since he had already planned out most of his evening, his thoughts fell to Alex. Ian Rider had actually done a passable job of teaching him the basics. While the man had nothing on him in terms of combat, he was considered one of the best agents for a reason. Ian was better at spying. He was better at killing. It was why they both held their current jobs. Even so, Alex still managed to find trouble. A wolf, a corpse, and him- it sounded like the beginning of a bad joke. Speaking of bad jokes, he was carrying a certain array of nerve poisons, knives, and guns to said party. Yassen would be damned if he let himself be caught unprepared. It was about time for Rothman's husband to have an accident, as well. They never did last very long. Yassen had offed some probable tails that had gotten too suspicious on the way over. Better safe than sorry. The files had been read and memorized. Some idiot drug dealer had managed to piss off the CIA bad enough for them to hire SCORPIA. The only problem was, his security was (understandably) tight and even highly trained operatives didn't see a way to get in and kidnap the guy. Of course, it was also in South America and the CIA did not want another blown operation in that area. Things were still very tense in the political sense. He and Nile were expected to succeed where the others had failed. The success of the operation was now a matter of face as well as profit. It helped that they were paying out the nose for it as well.


	18. A talk, an investigation, and a black op…or two.

Alex Rider closed and locked the office door behind him and the room seemed to become graver. Alex could hear the clock ticking as Ian gathered his thoughts. He waited for his uncle to begin. Alex wondered which of his plans Ian had discovered this time. "Your pet is first on the agenda. _Exactly_ what were you _thinking_ when you decided to keep him, despite all the warning to the public and the obvious danger he poses?"

Alex still didn't see the problem. His pet was a genetically modified wolf, so what? He'd trained it from before it would've had clear eyesight. Ian wanted to scream at the genuinely puzzled expression on Alex's face. This was reminding him far too much of John and Gregorovich. "Well, I found him hurt and decided to treat him. Then, I saw the news and thought they were exaggerating about the danger so they would get Fenrir back. I decided there was no way in hell I was giving a dog back to the sick fucks who hurt him in the first place."

Ian held back his reaction. _Not John._ He reminded himself. He decided to take out the files, minus the pictures, and handed them to Alex. "Tell me we were exaggerating after you read this."

Alex flipped open the file. The standard classified warnings were there. "Isn't this illegal?"

Ian raised a single eyebrow. "So is not reporting an international assassin after spotting him."

Alex decided shutting up was a good idea.

After Alex got done reading through Project Direwolf, the only thing he felt was a faint twist of disgust. The way they had treated the wolves had practically guaranteed failure. That the trainers had been eaten was somewhat their fault for not feeding their charges. The fact that the wolves were planned as weapons and could act in a multitude of ways, including corpse dogs, was well executed. He felt the strong urge to pet Fenrir again. "Well, it was their own damn fault for being idiots."

Ian had a sinking suspicion that nothing would convince Alex that the pet he had played parent to was dangerous. "Besides, Fenrir hasn't even bitten anyone."

Ian was suppressing a groan. "Yet. It's practically a matter of time."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I doubt it. Fenrir is very well fed and humans aren't on the prey list for wolves."

Ian gave him a look that suggested he hoped Alex was kidding. "They were _meant_ for hunting people, Alex. It's a little different."

Ian felt like he was losing this argument so badly it wasn't even funny. "I'm still keeping him."

Ian sighed. "Fine, but you are reading that file every week until you memorize it, just so you know _all_ the dangers involved."

Alex had long ago nicknamed that tone of voice 'poisoned honey'. He knew that Ian was going to be a pain about this. Yassen and Jack had both griped. Tom and Jerry were both wary of Fenrir, but still acted like he was a normal dog. Alex supposed it was just something no one would get. His pet might be dangerous, but after Malagosto, he thought he could handle it.

Ian decided moving on was the way to go. "Item number two is up. How many poisonous plants can you possibly need? The garden is practically a bio-hazard. I'm glad you at least set a perimeter with thistles, but seriously? You have like a hundred of the world's deadliest plants."

Alex rolled his eyes at Ian's exaggeration. "It's actually closer to fifty. Besides, they do look pretty and are commonly sold at garden stores. Some of them are medium poisonous and/or flammable, not all of them are heart-stopping, you know."

The flammable ones were obviously useful and the medium ones were good if you wanted people sick, not dead. Ian flat-out glared at him. "Because fifty-ish is so much better. We might not have to call hazmat after all."

Alex thought Ian was just being over dramatic at this point, actually… "If I'm not around to take care of them or die unexpectedly, you probably should. Some of them have toxic pollen and I don't want you to get any in your lungs."

Ian felt like laughing and crying at the same time. If it was anyone else, he would find this hysterically funny. "Why do you need them?"

Alex shrugged. "It's more of a just in case thing. Since I don't get official equipment, I'm making my own."

Ian sighed. "If you did, would you get rid of the garden?"

It was worth a try. Alex could have snorted at the bargaining, but he knew Ian was actually serious. "Probably not. I just have more faith in myself than relying on other people."

Ian decided it was time for the responsible use of toxins talk, since Alex insisted on keeping them. They weren't really that different from a gun, but poison was just so...assassin. "So, uh...what do you know about poisoning people?"

Ian normally didn't do this sort of thing. They had people who taught agents and Crawley for this. "In general, technique-wise, or the biology of it?"

Alex said with a sigh. He knew quite a bit, actually. "I mean morality, Alex."

Ian was barely able to resist grating out. Alex shrugged. He hadn't much thought about it. "You poison someone and they get sick or die, so...don't do unless someone else is going to die if you don't."

Was what Alex came up with on the spot. Ian sighed. This was actually kind of painful, but that would do. "Right, well if we go by the Bank's standards, the harm caused by the death has to be outweighed by the good."

Alex gave Ian his most skeptical look. He didn't necessarily believe in the greater good as an abstract concept the way most of MI6 would. "I don't believe in the greater good, you know. There are good people and bad people and they do good and bad things, but the greater good just doesn't exist as an abstract concept for me. It always struck me as akin to serving a higher power. "

Ian was startled. He had, after all, spent most of his life serving and believing in it. "Then why would you pick the million people?"

Alex hadn't known they had completely different thought processes. "Because it would be the right thing to do."

Ian's next thought was dry and unbidden. _Well, at least he knows the difference between right and wrong._ "Besides, the Bank is a rather low standard."

Ian sighed. "Do you hate me then?"

Ian, for all his intelligence, was an _idiot_ sometimes. "No, I hate the idea of your job and having to do it. There is quite a bit of difference."

Ian supposed he could live with that. At least Alex didn't want to spy, for now. The silence that hit the room was rather awkward. Ian decided he would be going with the blunt approach. "So, we found a dead body together."

Alex gave him a look drier than the Sahara. "You make it sound like a family activity, Ian. If it is, I'm calling social services."

Ian snorted. "Damn it, Alex, I'm serious."

Alex gave him a wry smile. "So am I, do you know how bad that thing smelled and how creepy it was once Fenrir dug it up?"

Ian rolled his eyes. He was trying hard not to be amused, since it was an actual dead person. "I was there remember. I told you the shaggy horse wasn't a normal dog, but did you listen? Oh, no. It was: Ian, my dog is completely normal, minus the wolfish characteristics and horse-like size."

Alex rolled his eyes. They both knew that dog wasn't going anywhere, even if it dug up a hundred more dead bodies. "Seriously though, if you ever find or make another one, you call me and the police after I get there."

Ian's eyes were still glittering with amusement. Alex reflected that, right now, the resembled more of a chocolate brown and less of a frozen tundra. Alex wondered how many outstanding murder charges and investigations Ian had under aliases. It was probably best not to think about it. "Alright then. Was there anything else?"

Ian sighed. "Yes, you don't get to escape my clutches just yet."

Alex rolled his eyes at the bait. It was just too easy sometimes. "If you start having world domination plans and calling me 'my pretty', I'm throwing a glass of water at you."

Ian thought about two of his ribs were cracking under the strain of not laughing at the mental images. "On a more serious note, your friends seem to be having some issues at home."

Ian said once he figured it was safe to speak and not start laughing. Alex's face darkened instantly. Oh yes, they were. The small spark of rage had begun to kindle and burn at the back of his mind. Soon there would be an inferno, if he didn't do something. "Yeah. Those parents just can't stop arguing. I guess they wanted a good night's sleep for school this week, since we have testing."

Alex was going to keep his promise to Tom. Ian didn't believe that was nearly all, judging from the way Alex had looked. It reminded him a little too much of a time when John had lost his temper mid-mission. Ian didn't know what he had done, but even Blunt had looked afraid when he got the report. Jones hadn't looked either of them in the eyes for weeks. Ian suspected she had been afraid of what she would see. It had been earlier, before SCORPIA and before John had the iron self-control he had achieved after that. Alex looked like he was contemplating something deadly. Ian decided that in the end, it was his choice. He wondered how he should handle this, carefully he supposed. "Alex…"

Ian couldn't think of words to convey his thoughts. "Yes, Ian?"

Why was this hard? "Be careful."

Alex seemed to get the underlying message. The expression hardened again. "I will."

With that, he unlocked the office door. He couldn't shake the cold, icy certainty that something terrible was about to happen and that Alex would be at the center of it.

* * *

Alex read the journal in the privacy of his room. It contained nothing that would convince him of either innocence or guilt in this case. Alex looked up public records about the two. Today was his day to smash laws to pieces, apparently. They had actually filed for divorce earlier this time around. The judge seemed convinced that no amount of marriage counseling would help them. They would officially no longer be married come Monday. Alex remembered last time that Tom's parents had taken years to agree on what each one got and moving out. They had still been arguing at the time of his death, in fact. Alex decided that if they were going to take forever to move out, he would speed it on along. Come Monday, if Tom's dad wasn't out of the house, well…Alex would see. He decided it was time to text Yassen. Alex wondered if the man would help him with this. It was technically dangerous, but comparatively low risk to some of his plans. The reason he hadn't asked Ian was because it was a) majorly illegal and b) potentially fatal. If Tom's parents died, it was just what happened. They had a high probability of living, though, so Alex wasn't terribly worried. Alex studied late into the night, though he did not need to. He was nearly done with Russian and already on another computer language. Chinese would be next (specifically Mandarin). Getting the textbooks online would be almost passé.

* * *

When Yassen Gregorovich felt his phone buzz, he was quietly relieved. While he didn't mind being alone, it was not something that helped his paranoia levels in large crowds. He vanished on to the empty balcony to take the text.

* * *

_-C_

_Theoretically, how do I burn a house down and make it look like an accident?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen did an internal double take. He would need more information. Why on earth was Alex burning a house down? At least this was interesting, unlike the party. He made sure no one was watching before he sent a reply.

* * *

_-A_

_What brought on the sudden urge to commit arson?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. He hadn't said no at least. Well, not right off the bat anyway. Ian would have definitely said no. It went down to the probability of Yassen and Tom ever meeting, which was low.

* * *

_-C_

_A friend is in trouble. If I burn down the house, he will be out of trouble. If it doesn't look like an accident, he will be worse off._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack sighed. Alex really needed a more normal set of problem-solving skills. Well, there was one way to find out if he was actually going along with this utter foolishness.

* * *

_-A_

_Can you do something about this legally? If I don't help you, will you do it anyway?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex looked at the text. Well, if he got this wrong, he was completely on his own. Alex may respect Yassen, but he was intent on rescuing Tom. Besides, technically he wouldn't be lying.

* * *

_-C_

_Dude, I'm ten. The legal system and that don't go together. Yes, I will do it anyway. What kind of friend would I be if I left them to suffer?_

_-A_

* * *

Cossack mentally sighed. This would be so much easier if Alex was an adult. He was so much like _him_ , it was like a constant ache. Alex had a point, though. The legal system tended to discount children, though it was better more recently. He knew Alex wouldn't let him handle it either. This was personal and Yassen respected that. He would offer his help, but it would be conditional.

* * *

_-A_

_The practical kind. Fine, I will help you. On a few conditions. One, you will follow my instructions to the letter. Two, you will be nowhere near the fire when it starts. Three, at a certain point you will help me with something, no questions asked. Four, you keep me updated like you have been doing. Five, you stay far away from South America until I come back from assignment._

_-C_

* * *

Alex figured his help would be conditional. The man was kind of a control freak and seemed constantly worried. The favor wasn't currently pressing and Alex was sure Ian wasn't taking him to South America again any time soon. It was a personal item he wanted help on. Alex already knew that Tom was worth being in debt to the world's most ruthless assassin. He hoped this worked.

* * *

_-C_

_Fine, as long as what you want isn't too gruesome. Though I suspect if it was, you could do it yourself._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack felt a flash of smugness. He would bet money that Ian Rider hadn't been consulted on the latest moves of his nephew. The wolf was proof enough of that. Alex was right, of course. He would do it himself. The only reason he was going along with this was that he was going to start lesson two. _Everything comes with a price and it is not always only money._ If Alex got past a certain point, he would no longer be a functional member of normal society. It would be his choice every step of the way, but Cossack always had and endgame of his own. While he cared for Alex, it was not the selfless sort of love most people would imagine. He knew he was becoming increasingly possessive and fixated. It was only the thought that it would destroy him that held Yassen back. That and SCORPIA was on the fast track to destruction. He could see that it would become a threat to intelligence agencies that would have once tolerated it. The board members were aging or becoming arrogant. The restraint and caution they had once shown was slowly fading and the cold professionalism, while still there, was going to be driven out by some of the more _outspoken_ board members. Malagosto was still the best school for assassination in the world, but the top agent for after Nile was a gaping hole as of the moment. People as good as him needed to be trained before the age's armies currently recruited at. Yassen would handle the details on the plane ride tomorrow. Fortunately, he was not taking commercial airlines. The urge to poison some of the more obnoxious passengers was sometimes an issue with trained operatives, plus he could hardly afford to go to an airport with heavy disguise on both his and Nile's part. Alex was satisfied with the way he had handled both Ian and Yassen. The two of them made him nervous separately, let alone together. He prepared for bed in his usual way. Fenrir broke in again and Alex never had the heart to kick him out. He snuggled up to his wolf and reflected that, once again, he was drawn into the world of black ops as a solution. Yassen got back from the party extremely late. Rothman insisted he stay late this time around. He privately hoped the rest of the board got sick of her soon. He settled on for his most vulnerable point by setting lethal traps on all of the entrances to his room. Technically, he was among allies, but it was best to be sure. It would be for no more than four hours anyhow. He never slept more than four hours. Yassen didn't dream and didn't have nightmares either, not anymore.

* * *

Alex didn't have issues going to sleep, but once he was asleep, things got weird. Alex once again was in a featureless room. Death was sitting at a table. Alex was a mixed bag at the moment and speechless, once again. "Am I dead again?"

The figure sighed. "No, but I suppose that would be the assumption, given our last meeting."

Alex looked at the figure in black. "What is it then?"

Death gave him a wry look. "You were thinking about wanting to see me again. This is the result. Well, that and the fact I got bullied into giving you more help than I originally planned."

Alex was confused. There are others? "I would have thought that Death would be the highest power."

The man in black looked slightly pouty. "Sadly, no."

Alex decided it was questions time. He might as well. "What about the fire dream?"

Death gave him a look. "What about it?"

Alex tried not to snap. "Was it a premonition?"

"The thing about the future is that you get the choice as humans. Because of the whole free will thing, future stuff is unreliable and hazy at best, for mortals. Dreams are what you make of them. The dreams you get are all going to be like this or like that. I made it so you don't get nightmares, you know."

Well, that was incredibly vague. "What's with the tattoo?"

"One of my lesser known symbols. It helps me keep track of you."

No, that wasn't creepy at all. "What happens if I die?"

Death suppresses a groan. He was on his best behavior, after all. "It depends. If you are young, you just don't, though you end up with nasty scar tissue. If you are above about fifty-five or you commit suicide for some idiotic reason, then you go on or you can try again. If you somehow manage to get burned at the stake or something with entire body destruction, you are a dumb-ass and we will have a nice chat about time travel. If you live a long happy life and for some reason want to live another one, I can put you in different time periods and so on. It's really conditional."

Alex decided to ask. "So do you tell me what to do or what?"

Death sighed. "What part of free will didn't you hear?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You can just say no."

Death suppressed his reaction. "Besides, then we get into semantics about best and best for who. For example, you being a spy may have been best for the world, but not for you, the people you killed, or your loved ones."

Alex ground his teeth. "Am I going about it right?"

Death sighed. "In what way? You need to ask yourself what you want. There is no one right way, you know. Life is complicated that way."

Alex hated vague little answers like that. "Can you at least change the tattoo?"

The man in black snorted. "What to and where do you want it?"

Alex thought for a minute. "Celtic sun made of fire and four black ravens in the place I used to have my bullet scar."

Not exactly inconspicuous if anyone ever made him take his shirt off in a public setting, but he would have bigger problems if that were the case. "Will it grow with me?"

Death just looked at him. "Off course."

Alex knew Ian would kill him when he found out. It was worth not having a flower and having a cool tattoo instead. "Can I change it or hide it?"

Death shrugged. "You can just ask me and I have no clue. Try makeup maybe? The theater stuff can cover just about anything."

Alex had known that already. "So why do any of this?"

Death just gave him an eerie look. "Because."

Alex smirked. "You mean, you aren't sure yourself."

Death supposed it was true enough. He had been bored before, but he had never done anything like this. Death realized that it was almost time to wrap this up. "Any other questions, short stack, before I leave?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm only short 'cause I'm ten, you ass."

Death gave him a look. "Would you rather have come back the day before your uncle died?"

Alex sighed. "No need to be pissy." Death made to get up. "Wait! Why are things so different this time?"

Death plopped himself in the chair. "There are a couple theories I can tell you. I didn't actually pay much attention before you started constantly almost dying, so I'm not actually sure. Plus, even if I was cause and effect on that scale is for you mortals to figure out on your own, so I would be banned from it."

Alex mused. "Does anyone?"

Death gave him a flat look. "Jones. Blunt. Yassen. Ian. Any of those ring a bell?"

Alex thought about it for a minute. "Does anyone know about me?"

Death tilted his head and his eyes seemed to focus on nothing for a minute. "No one you know. A few people you might meet later will figure out enough, but we digress slim."

Alex wondered when he would pick a nickname. "Theory one. You are just noticing more than what you did before and acting accordingly, hence changing the outcome inch by inch. Theory two. The universe I sent you to has enough similarities that you pass as their Alex, but there are important differences you find out and/or cause. Theory three. I violated natural law to send you back. Ripples from that could have changed things. Theory four. Some being besides me decided to fuck with your life a little to make it 'better'."

Alex felt a little overwhelmed. "Better for who?"

Death had a nasty grin. "Now you start to see."

"What do I do, then?"

Death shrugged. "Whatever you want. That's what most people don't seem to get. There are always choices. There may not be good ones, but there are options."

Alex supposed he had a point. "But what's the point?"

Death wondered if he was dense sometimes. "The point is whatever you want to make it. You can go for good old-fashioned revenge, getting rich, whatever. If your life's ambition is to become a hobo, you can do that to. I'm not gonna tell you what you should do, since you get enough of that any way. I'm told a good way to start is to make a list of what you want and what you are willing to sacrifice, but I wouldn't know."

Alex knew what his next school distraction was going to be. When he turned to tell Death what he thought, the man was gone and so was the room.

* * *

Alex felt like he was in freefall and spinning at the same time. He woke with a gasp and shot upright in bed. One glance at the clock tore a groan out of his mouth. It was four-thirty in the morning. Couldn't that bastard have given him more sleep? Suddenly, his chest began to burn and tingle. It felt like dozens of tiny needles were running across his skin. Alex began to breathe heavily. It burned. The only thing that kept him from screaming was the fact that he knew what third degree burns were like, among other things. He knew, vaguely, that his back was arched. Alex's hand and the edge of his bed were currently engaged in a death grip. Alex tasted metal and knew he had accidentally bitten the inside of his cheek. The sensation faded as quickly as it came. Alex decided that now was a great time to look in the mirror. He rubbed his eyes and flicked the bathroom light on. True to his word, the bastard in black had changed the tattoo. A fiery sun emblazoned his chest and four ravens flew away from it along his collarbone and shoulder blade. It was beautiful, at least. It made him less pissy than the flower. If he was branded like cattle, it would at least look nice. Alex felt a nose press against his hand. Fenrir was up to, it seemed. The wolf gave him its most pitiful look since Alex had adopted it. "Fine you furry rat, we can go for a walk. Let me get dressed first. This is _not_ going to a habit." Ian would have a heart-attack if he knew Alex was going out before dawn, so Alex decided to just be back before anyone noticed. He put on reflective gear and decided it was time for a run.

Alex came back just as the sun was rising. True to his prediction, nobody was up. Seeing the streets that empty was eerie, like going to a ghost town. Fenrir was radiating heat, like he always did after a run. Alex and the wolf padded silently up the stairs. Alex showered and changed into his school uniform. He had packed his bag last night. He sat at his desk and checked his phone. The first round of instructions had been set by Yassen. More recon. Alex had figured and already adjusted Fenrir's walking schedule to suit his needs. More importantly, he needed to know what was going on in the house with the adults, since the kids were at his. That required either a lot of stalking he didn't have time for or listening devices and another B&E stint. Alex did still have to keep up his school attendance. He took another glance at the clock. Time to go. Jack and Ian both seemed to be up now. Tom and Jerry only blinked blearily at his wake-up call into their room as he went towards the kitchen. On habit, he took his array of poison and weaponry along with him. In his opinion, there was no such thing as too paranoid. Fenrir went down with him, gliding at his side across the carpet. Alex fed him only at night, but let the wolf stay at his side for whenever he was at home.

* * *

Ian Rider had woken the minute the door had opened at about five in the morning. Alex was so dead. At the same time, there really was no point in punishing him. Alex did what Alex thought was best when he thought it was best. Why the hell would he be up at four-something in the morning anyway? _It could be nightmares_. The thought sprung into his head. Ian himself went for workouts when he couldn't sleep or couldn't go back to sleep. Alex seemed to be keeping odd hours. At first Ian thought it might be the damn 'dog', but Fenrir seemed to cater to Alex's schedule, unlike most pets. Actually, the wolf was strangely quiet. There was no barking or howling at night and only a few shredded items. Ian really didn't see the appeal, but Alex had his mind set on Fenrir. Actually, the icy yellow-blue eyes reminded him of a far more human predator that seemed to have set his sight in Alex. Ian shuddered at the thought and decided it was best not to dwell to closely on the things Alex's new pet had in common with Gregorovich. He pulled on his suit. Ian had a homicide investigation to coordinate. Crawley would technically be on the job, but Ian knew the man was going to let him in on the investigation. Ian would be returning the bugs to Smithers today. He figured that six weeks was enough to get a feel for Alex's school life. No, he wasn't paranoid at all.

* * *

Alex felt Ian's eyes on him the minute his uncle came down the stairs. They flashed to meet his for a moment and then Ian's attention turned to his breakfast. Alex had deliberately picked one of Jack's lighter recipes for the morning to combat the nausea that he knew would come with the lack of sleep he had. Actually, he already felt the headache and burn of the acid at the back of his throat. He wondered if talking to Death counted as sleeping or not. It felt more like he had pulled an all-nighter. It was going to be a long day and he would leave the recon for later. Being tired made you sloppy and he couldn't afford to get caught. Tom and Jerry predictably ran late. With Jerry, it didn't matter so much because he was in his last year and already had gotten into his college, though he planned to take a gap year later on. Jack was getting impatient and Alex kept quiet for the car ride. They were both just barely on time. Their carpool didn't raise a single eyebrow. Then again, everyone knew that he and Tom were friend, plus the student body didn't yet have its rumor mill propensity like it would in a few years. Alex sat in his first period and suppressed a groan. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

Ian got to the Bank and reflected on his conversation with Alex. Like it or not, Alex was his own person. Ian knew that it was a completely different age than the one he had grown up and worked for the Bank in, but he hadn't felt the disconnect until after he talked with Alex. He wondered what Jones wanted with him, after all, Alex wasn't a patriot. Intelligent and athletic, occasionally manipulative, but otherwise not exactly ideal for intelligence work. Ian decided that maybe Tulip was just getting lonely in her old age. She had once had kids. Ian was so deep in thought that he nearly ran into both his boss and his coworker. They normally waited in or near his office. "What's up?"

Ian knew he hadn't been caught giving the file to Alex or about anything else important. Crawley sighed. "Well, the body you found just caused an international incident."

Ian was losing his patience. "So who the f- I mean who is it?"

He hadn't gotten a lot of sleep the past few days, ok? Jones was going to let that one go by. Ian was under a lot of stress. "A Russian diplomat."

Ian groaned. "Don't they die a lot anyway? Or get executed? Or have heart-attacks from cocaine while being with prostitutes?"

Crawled resisted a snort. Rider must really be tired to let that one slip out. Jones rolled her eyes. Sometimes this was like herding ADD teenagers in a strip club. "Actually, the man had a reputation for being extraordinarily difficult to corrupt. The Russians want in-"

Cue the collective groans from the men. "- and we initially declined their help, since the murder is on our soil. They aren't pleased and threatened to hold up the international courts for this. The compromise we ended up with was that they would send a representative."

Ian sighed. "Who is it?"

The feeling of dread returned full force. "General Alexei Sarov."

Ian laughed bitterly. "Well, is there anything else to top off the crap for this week?"

Jones gave him a look that told him he was not going to fuck this up. "Sarov is demanding a symbolic function in which everyone on the investigation _and their families_ have to attend to 'promote unity'. _Including the Prime Minister and the diplomats of both parties._ "

Ian wondered if he was having a bizarre nightmare. The blatantly politicking was one thing, the families was another. What on earth was Sarov playing at? Ian guessed having the kids there would prevent people from giving the pain-in-the-ass Cold War remnant a convenient heart attack, but was he really that paranoid? Yes, yes he was. Looks like Alex was getting emergency lessons for the week. Alex could handle himself in most formal functions, but this was a bit above that. Oh, well. That school was next to useless for him anyway. A week or so off wouldn't make a difference. Also, Alex had a bit of a mouth. No telling what the Russians would do with that. Not to mention, Alex _knew_ the accursed language. That meant attention from creepy Russians…well nobody had to know about that right? Alex was going to stay away from the boring politicians surely? Ian would put that in the lessons.

* * *

Alex knew why Yassen didn't carry heart-stopping poison all the time. He only had to sit in a room full of loud, fidgeting, coughing, sneezing, chatty classmates and fight the urge to put a rosary pea or two in their meals. He was sure it was the lack of sleep. Tom, to his credit, seemed to have sensed his mood and sat them at a table by themselves. "Thank you, Tom."

His friend gave him a wan smile. "Just try not to kill them mate. I know you get bothered by the noise sometimes. They mean well, you know."

Tom offered Alex his hand. Alex took it and felt a squeeze. Alex spent the rest of lunch eating awkwardly with one hand and having Tom hold his other. This was why he had come back. He didn't want to lose this. And sitting there with Tom? It was the first time he felt like he belonged anywhere since Ian died the first time around. Alex bit back a curse as the bell rang. Tom didn't share any of their next classes and his shitty mood was coming back full force. Alex mentally counted back from one hundred and decided that he was going to use his phone to hack the school mainframe. Nothing destructive enough to get him locked up, but it would keep him entertained. Alex was in. The power was connected to the principal's computer…how insecure and fortunate for Alex. Alex was feeling vindictive today, not enough to actually murder anyone, but enough to wreak havoc.

* * *

The rest of the day was significantly more amusing for Alex and significantly less educational for his classmates. Between fire drills every thirty minutes, only to have the notice to the fire department canceled, non-stop blasting of twisted kiddy songs in five different languages at random intervals over the intercom, malfunctioning bells and sprinklers going off at random, even the best teacher couldn't function. Alex was shaking with suppressed laughter by the end of it. The teachers were furious. His classmates were hysterical, laughing, or wearing a puzzled expression. The principal was screaming at the department of education over the phone. The teachers had lost any sense of decorum about an hour into it. A few people were even crying. Tom knew Alex had something to do with this. Rule one in his life was that Alex was always involved, even when he wasn't. This was hysterical and Alex was at his usual God status in Tom's eyes. This was beautiful and Alex was epic. Plus, his friend seemed to be the only one who was amused by this. It was insane. Tom couldn't even fathom how Alex had pulled this without getting caught, but he knew who to call if he wanted unequivocal havoc wreaked. The principal was ranting and had gathered the school in the cafeteria. The person, if they were ever caught, would be expelled blah, blah, blah. Tom and Alex both burst out laughing the minute they were away from prying eyes. Alex's eyes were dancing. "Did you see the look on their faces?"

Tom couldn't stop laughing long enough to answer. Funny how breaks in routine shattered most people.

* * *

Jack Starbright took one look at the unholy glee on both boys' faces and decided it was best not to ask. She knew they would be hearing from the school soon enough if they had done something. Boys would be boys and she didn't begrudge them their fun, so long as it was harmless. Alex would never deliberately harm someone as far as she knew. Ian was continuing with his erratic interest in Alex's life and had informed her that Alex would not be attending school for most of a week. She could just about scream. It was almost like Alex wasn't allowed to have a normal life. She wondered if slipping Ian a copy of _Codependent No More_ would get her fired. Probably. But there was no way that relationship was healthy. Random school withdrawals for weird lessons for an even weirder business gathering. Jack didn't pry, but she felt like she was missing a piece or eight of the puzzle. At least Alex seemed happy and relatively well-adjusted. She felt a rush of warmth towards Tom and Jerry for bringing Alex back to normal-ish. Oh, well. She would let Ian handle this one. Tom hadn't stopped laughing the entire way back. Jack had left three messages on their parents' phone. If they wanted their kids back, they knew where to get them. In the meantime, Tom and Jerry would be well taken care of. At least Ian's creepy coworkers weren't coming around anymore. One of them was even named Crawley, for Christ's sake! Jack couldn't think of a more fitting name, personally.

* * *

Alex knew Jack would probably not tell them off without evidence, even though Tom had still not quit laughing. Alex nudged his friend once they got to the house. Tom now limited himself to the most shit-eating grin Alex had ever seen. Alex rolled his eyes, but he was still thoroughly entertained himself. Jack was just looking at them with a single eyebrow raised. Alex thought she must be trying not to laugh. The fire-red of her hair and amused cast to her face made her look her (fairly young) age. Alex personally thought she was very pretty; he wondered how she would take it if he gave her clothing advice for her dates. Alex had considered disguising himself as a woman more than a few times. He was secure enough in his sense of self that he didn't much care what kind of clothes he wore. He actually liked helping people with that sort of thing, but if he did it with anyone close to his age… Alex sighed. His classmates were so immature (no, there was no irony there, not at all.). Alex had made sure to cover his tracks in case anyone actually competent checked the computers. No telling what Jones would do to him if she found out. Jones was just paranoid to investigate herself, too. Alex flicked on the news. Well, oops. The massive malfunction (the vultures called it) had made the news. As luck would have it, Ian picked that exact moment to come home from work and walk into the room. His eyes immediately went to Alex. "What?!"

Ian just raised an eyebrow. "Innocent until proven guilty, Ian dearest."

Ian actually snorted. "Only in America, Alex. In Britain, the accused holds the burden of proving their innocence."

Alex allowed a wry twist of his lips. "An outdated and prejudicial tradition, Ian. Besides, you can't prove anything."

Ian rolled his eyes. "I'm not the one you have to convince. We are going to have another talk after dinner."

Alex was beginning to wonder if he shouldn't get Ian a social life.

* * *

When Ian saw the news, he knew it was Alex. It was _always_ Alex. If Alex couldn't find trouble, he made trouble. It was all he could do to keep from laughing. Personally, he found it extremely amusing. It wouldn't be setting a good example if he did, though. Plus, if anyone actually found out it was Alex, they could get him arrested. In Ian's opinion, the charges would be totally trumped up for a harmless bit of fun. They had actual terrorists to arrest, the time and money spent on arresting preteens for harmless bits of fun was a shame and a waste of resources. The principal was rattling on about due diligence and shoddy parenting and apparently targeting goths. Ian exchanged a look with Alex. "He really doesn't have a clue about his students, does he?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Nope, and even if you bought him one, I doubt he would understand it."

Ian snorted. Was that moron really in charge of a school? "Of course, the vice principal and the secretary are far more astute and diligent. He isn't that bad at the administration portion, but I think he forgot what being a kid was like."

Ian wouldn't really know, but he supposed Alex knew what he was talking about. "Just as well I'm pulling you out for a week, then."

Alex jumped up. "What?! Why? You are the first person who ever told me education was important!"

Ian took on a placating tone. "Easy, Alex. It's only for a week. You are getting a different education for a work thing that came up."

Alex felt a growing sense of dread. "What is it?"

* * *

Ian had explained it to him. Alex felt like puking. Sarov was coming. The insane general who wanted to blow up half of Russia. The guy he had watched commit suicide. Ian finally seemed to notice how pale he was. "It won't be that bad, you know. Actually, you'll probably be very bored, just try not to look like it." Ian continued with his reassurances, not that Alex could hear much of them. Oh, he could hear and understand his uncle, but he was more focused on the memories of the plane, Conrad, and the final, singular gunshot. Alex hoped that he looked less like the man's beloved Vladimir this time around. Alex had actually visited the grave- the resemblance was very real and quite striking. Also, a bit creepy. The fact that he now spoke Russian like the man had wanted made him all the more uneasy. Ian was now talking about how important it was that they took it seriously and that he would need a manners brush up and a suit and how not causing a diplomatic incident was very important. Alex was suddenly glad he paid attention to everything at Malagosto. He could kill someone while exhibiting perfect manners and conduct. This week wouldn't be too bad, then at least. Alex was packing his gun, knives, and every poison he owned for good measure. There were far too many important targets in one place for his comfort.


	19. The General Comes to Town

Alex had spent the last week in lessons with Ian. Ian was surprised at how quickly his nephew caught on. He had specifically instructed Alex not to use Russian unless there was an emergency and to stay as far away from the adults as possible. Then there had been the political history and social context lessons, which he hadn't necessarily needed. Ian would be damned if it was either of them causing problems. Then he had gone into the military history of Russia and the roles everybody attending had played in it. They had gotten Alex a suit, of course. Alex had successfully argued his way into a full arsenal. Ian would be taking his as well. Alex seemed extra twitchy, not that Ian blamed him. He had also memorized the blueprints and security, though Ian had been surprised not to hear a single complaint from Alex. Actually, his teachers put up more of a stink. Ian assured them this was educational and had Alex write an essay to prove it. Alex had turned it in in four different languages and at university level, so nobody could complain. Ian had put him through his paces at both hand-to-hand and various weaponry in the training rooms. Alex had surprised him with tiny IED's that looked like pieces of gum, but would serve as remote controlled hand-grenades if need be. Ian decided it was better not to ask where he learned to make plastic explosives. He supposed he had covered it during lessons and Alex had figured out the ratios with experiments or online.

They had both gotten ready. Alex felt a faint stirring of adrenaline. He and Ian exchanged looks. "Ready?"

Ian's smile was slightly predatory. "Armed and dangerous."

Alex occasionally wondered how much he actually knew about Ian and they both glided into and out of the car. The ride seemed to pass so quickly. Alex felt the anticipation warm him. The evening was cool enough that he felt it in the suit jacket. He almost hoped something happened and the immediately quashed that thought. Alex would enjoy tearing someone a new one. The lessons had been tiring and exceedingly intense. They had also heightened his paranoia. Alex immediately spotted both the covert and overt security. A sneer threatened to cross his face. After keeping company with pretty much only Ian and Yassen and his pet wolf for the past few weeks, everyone else seemed slow and clumsy by comparison. He supposed they were decent enough. At least the Spetsnaz on the roof had the decency to camouflage themselves. Alex would have waved at them otherwise. Ian's lessons on how to observe people had paid off. Alex could see the tell-tale signs of agents in the crowds. Plenty of politicians and their children had shown up. Alex was just grateful for the crowd cover. With any luck, nothing would happen and he and Sarov wouldn't even cross paths. Trust the minister to make it seem like a big deal. Alex felt the faintest hint of disgust. A man was dead and people were throwing a party. Ian had arrived after the party started, but not late enough to be noticed.

* * *

Alex was tempted to drink, but he knew to never let his guard down. He might break into Ian's scotch after this. The other kids looked just as out of place as he did and the older ones had probably started drinking. Alex was glad nobody was talking to him because he was currently not in the mood. Oh, goody, one of the teenagers was puking. Alex decided to go outside before he gave into the impulse to punch something. He knew it wasn't Ian's fault, but right now he just wanted to be alone. Thankfully, the doors to garden were unlocked. Alex didn't bother asking permission. Most of the people were focused on Pukey, anyway. He made sure to shut the doors behind him before commenting to himself. "This is absolutely disgusting. A man is dead, for fucks' sake!"

Alex hadn't meant to say it that loudly, but he figured he was safe. "I couldn't agree more."

Alex froze at the cultured Russian accent he knew all too well. He turned to meet the General for the first time, again. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

The man seemed calm at the moment, even kind. "I'm Alex Rider."

He offered the man his hand. "General Alexei Sarov of Russia. It is nice to meet you."

Alex felt his pulse begin to race, but kept his face blank as he shook hands with the man. Sarov was staring at him like he was a holy man being introduced to God. Alex felt the awkward silence stretch between them. Alex was suddenly aware of just how different the two of them were. They were worlds apart.

* * *

General Alexei Sarov had been disgusted with the entire charade. The party was in full swing and he had decided to go to the garden until the important portion of the meeting would be commenced. It was supposed to be a solemn occasion. His disgust had only rose as both the adults and children over indulged. The world had gone soft. This was one of many incidents that was convincing him that he needed to do something. Modern Russia was a disgrace. The parents that allowed their children to act out in public were as well. His Vladimir wouldn't have dreamed of doing so. The only reason he had been invited on this trip was because he was popular in his country and had a well-deserved reputation for being tough on the west. The people wanted answers for their beloved diplomat. His hatred of all things western had never risen to such a high point. A man was dead and they threw a party before he was even buried. Sarov knew it would never have happened in old Russia. There would have been a funeral, a demand to the West, and a prompt investigation followed by an assassination. Just as began to get in a poor mood, he heard a cultured English accent snarl the exact same sentiments. Well, well, his curiosity was piqued. When he stepped into the lamplight, the boy started. Alexei felt like he was being punched. He could swear it was Vladimir, back from the dead. He offered an apology. The General soaked in the image of the boy who was almost a mirror image of his dead son. No stuttering, confidence, control and if the build was anything to go by, athletic with daily workouts. His chest began to ache. The reminder… He was beautiful boy. Most likely his father's pride and joy. The general felt the sudden need to talk. "Your father must be proud. Where is he?"

Alex couldn't help the bitter smile. "Dead. My uncle looks after me. My parents died when I was one."

The general had no idea what to say to that. "My condolences and apologies."

Alex shrugged. "It's fine. I'm pretty used to the idea."

The Russian undersecretary chose that exact moment to walk outside and pass out. Alex hoped he was drunk and not dead and judging from the smell, he was. Sarov's face twisted into an expression of utter disgust. "Jesus. Hope he wasn't important. Do we drag him somewhere or what?"

Sarov was tempted to break the man's neck then and there. There was a reason he had no indulgences. Alex made the executive decision to put him behind the bushes. Nobody wanted the vultures seeing this. Alex easily lifted the man's upper half and took about two minutes to put him behind the bushes. Sarov raised an eyebrow. "I work out every day unless I get sick."

Alex felt a little defensive. It helped that the man was short and not outrageously muscular or overweight. Sarov felt his impression of Alex go up. "Why would you care about a Russian undersecretary?"

Alex resisted the urge to tell him he was a paranoid bastard. "One, I hate the modern press with a passion. Two, people passed out drunk attracts the vultures and nobody wants that. Three, this isn't a good look for either side at the moment, so vultures are bad right now. If he was the only guy, you would be on your own."

Sarov was starting to like him. Not bad, for a westerner. He was what twelve? Perhaps younger? At least there was purposefulness here. He wondered… They both looked inside at the (mostly) incredibly drunk people. Alex exchanged a look with the general. "So what's the idea, anyway? Everybody still sober goes in a small room and threatens each other and then both sides pretend that they aren't launching separate investigations while suspecting the crap out of each other?"

Sarov felt his lips twitch. "Pretty much."

Alex was astute at least. Perhaps worth watching even… It was not like he had much to do these days. The current administration didn't trust him (probably rightfully so) and hence let him out of most affairs of state. He still retained his wealth and most of his influence, however. Alex honestly had no idea what else to say to the man. In the past, he generally led and did most of the talking. Sarov looked just as lost. "I'm not really a conversationalist, sorry. We are kind of worlds apart."

Sarov turned to him. "We do not have to be, you know. What do you do in your spare time?"

Alex could almost see how the man could be influential and popular. When Sarov wasn't coming up with mad plans to blow up the world, he could actually be charming. "Sports, mostly. Skiing, biking, camping, that sort of thing."

Alex wondered if the man was completely insane yet or if something else had pushed him over the edge. So far, Sarov seemed normal. "Do you ride?"

Alex was now having flashbacks to the estate. "I can."

Sarov felt the ache in his chest return. _Vladimir_ , he wanted to say. It was as though he was being tortured by seeing his son again, but completely out of reach. The pain was almost a physical ache that became greater at every similarity. Sarov was feeling almost wistful now. He remembered when his son was younger. This one was different, less innocent and more cynical. Perhaps just cynical enough to live. Alex moved to go back inside. Sarov looked like he was in pain. "Do you speak Russian?"

Alex decided that if it made the general happy or at least look less like he was on the verge of a breakdown, he would converse in Russian until the day he died. At the moment, he genuinely felt sorry for the man. Damn, he was a sucker. " _Yes, what would you like me to say?_ "

Ian was going to kill him if ever found out. Sarov knew he was going sentimental in his old age. " _Nothing in particular. Just knowing is enough."_

Alex decided to go inside before this got any creepier. Sarov let him go this time. " _Goodbye, General._ "

Sarov felt something tear inside of him. He couldn't possibly know that it was the last thing Vladimir had ever said to him. Their farewell had been in public and both were soldiers. He felt a bitter, spiteful envy towards the uncle. He hadn't even met the man and he already hated him. God, he had never wanted anything more in his life than Alex. Sarov knew it was completely irrational, but he wanted something for himself. Was a son really too much to ask? Alex had gone back inside. Sarov decided to rejoin him. It wouldn't do to leave him unsupervised. Where was his guardian anyway?

* * *

Alex moved through the much slower crowd towards Ian. It looked like all the people were either going home or congregating for the meeting. The other kids were passed out or just asleep. Oh, well, he didn't fit with them anyway. Alex decided to just sit away from all the windows with his back firmly against the wall. Ian spotted him and walked over. "Sorry to abandon you, I was preventing accidents from happening. Did you spot the Russian undersecretary by any chance?"

Alex shrugged. "Out the doors, in the garden, behind the first six-foot shrub on the left, passed out drunk."

Ian groaned. "Jesus Christ, that's the fourth one. I told Jones not to let them do free booze. Thank you for taking care of that, by the way. The only way this could get worse is if the press showed up."

Alex sighed. "Couldn't you guys get it D-noticed?"

Ian shrugged. "Won't do any good if they do a late-night special before it goes into effect. Damn bureaucrats."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, how dare they protect free speech, Ian."

His uncle rolled his eyes. "Meet anyone at all?"

Alex was torn between lying for convenience and not. "General Sarov. He found me when I was hiding the undersecretary."

Ian bit back a swear. Could this night get any worse? "Were you polite, at least? That guy is probably the only Russian politician who doesn't drink, so he'll actually remember what happened."

Alex snorted. "Yes, he was. Quite pleasant to talk to actually."

Came the cultured Russian-accented English. Alex mentally groaned. He hoped the man didn't mention the Russian.

* * *

Ian felt himself instantly bristle, and it was not helped by the man's next comment. "Such a wonderful child. One could only wonder why he was unattended for so long."

Ian bit back a growl. How dare he?! "One could wonder what you were doing away from the party for so long General. Plotting already?"

Alex felt like Ian was taking this a little too personally. "Sorry to interrupt you two, but don't you have a meeting of some sort?"

Sarov smirked. "Too right we do. Care to come along Alex?"

Ian was fuming. "The meeting is _classified_ , general."

Sarov knew he had this one in the bag. "And I am within my full rights to demand he attend as a diplomatic courtesy. Wouldn't want to cause an incident, now would you?"

Ian barely restrained himself from murdering the man on the spot. Alex barely repressed a groan. What was it with him and Russian psychopaths? He tried, really. Sarov went in first and smirked while explaining the situation to everyone. Alex had to admire the sheer political gall of the man. The General had basically compared them all to children and then had Alex as his "guest". Alex sent Ian his most innocent and apologetic look. Ian gave him a warm look before redirecting his Antarctica-melting glare at Sarov's back. Thankfully, most of the politicians figured Sarov had just grabbed the first conscious kid to use on his plans. A couple sent him sympathetic looks. Jones eyed him suspiciously. Alex gave her his most nonchalant shrug before the evidence began their presentation. Crawley looked like he was starting to wish Fenrir had eaten him after all and several of the politicians were rolling their eyes at the posturing on both sides.

* * *

The presentation was dull as shit and about as content-heavy. Most of it had been questions about the forensics and press involvement. Alex knew more than most of them about politics and forensics and was patently bored. He made a point of keeping notes and made a rough timeline. Alex didn't really care much overall, but at least it gave him something to focus on. He also made a rough list of suspects. When he ran out of ideas for that, he made estimates of the amount of blow-ups the already bogged down investigation would have. The meeting lasted almost until dawn. Alex was fighting to see straight. A few people had fallen asleep. Ian, Jones, both ministers, and the agents had all remained more or less alert. Alex tried to exit as inconspicuously as possible. Sarov stopped him on the way out. " _I'll be in touch, Alex_."

Came the whispered phrase in Russian. Thankfully, Alex was the only one to hear it. He waited by the door for Ian. Ian was really starting to resemble an angry panther. Apparently, he was still pissed at the General. The man made sure he was out of earshot before he began muttering under his breathe about psychotic Russians and his nephew. Alex fell asleep in the car, but woke the minute they got home. The sun had just risen. Fenrir came up to greet him at the door. Alex barely had the energy to strip and shower before he collapsed onto the bed. Unfortunately for him, sleep was not what awaited him when he fell unconscious.

* * *

The third time Alex came face-to-face with Death, he was strikingly unafraid. "Good morning."

Death smirked. "That diplomatic training really got into your skull, huh?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Did I fuck up or summon you?"

Death snorted. "It usually is a little of both. You know, one would think a spy of your caliber would be less of a sucker."

Alex wondered if Death was always this rude or if his sarcasm had rubbed off on...it? Alex realized he didn't really have a pronoun for Death. He decided not to ask. There were some questions even he drew the line at. "So, great one, what did I do?"

Death had begun to enjoy the sappy retorts. "Well, you got Russia involved."

Alex groaned. "Don't remind me. Is he a crackpot or not?"

Death rolled his eyes. "Mortals. Okay, sparky. Psych 101. It takes a while for people to go batshit like our dear Russian General. Besides, how are we defining sane, in this case? Sanity is generally relative, all things considered. I digress, slim. The better question at this juncture is what exactly he wants. Right now, there are no nukes involved, sadly. More interesting is the fact that you still look creepily like dead son. Most likely, the dear Russian General is lonely and paranoid in his old age and still wants to adopt you. I would be more concerned about your loving family at this point. Your uncle is giving off a homicidal vibe, you know. Tisk, tisk."

Alex rolled his eyes. Ian really was overprotective sometimes. Frankly, Alex figured Ian would get over a few snide comments in the next day or two. At least he would have the weekend to recover from that nightmare. Ian would probably have to report in as it was. You would think the man would know better than to rise to bait like that. Actually, the General was a bit of a puzzle as well. Alex knew it was probably none of his business, but if the guy really wanted a son that bad why not adopt or get remarried? He wasn't _that_ old. Death seemed to be waiting for him. "Why didn't he just adopt or something?"

Death just rolled his eyes. "It didn't even cross his mind. He was rather one-track as it was, in case you hadn't noticed."

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose out of habit. "Anything else I should know?"

Death gave him an eerie, scanning look. "You may want to hold off on the thing with your friends until the investigation blows over. Houses burning down mysteriously will attract a lot of attention at the moment. I'm assuming the last thing you want is both the FSB and MI6 on your tail."

Alex realized that this was the first time Death had given him a straight answer. "Okay. Why can't you conveniently give everyone heart-attacks or something?"

Death made a move towards Alex. "Like I said, short stack, free will. Life is your playground. Death is mine."

Alex found himself staring into the man's eyes. He froze. The eyes were nothing like anything he'd seen before. They were black, or really dark. Looking closely, it was as though they contained black flame. He found himself holding his breath. "What happens when you die, normally?"

For a second, Alex felt like he'd gone too far. Grey fingers came to tap his cheek. "It depends, Alex, just like everything else."

Alex was very conscious of the fact he looked sixteen in this dream. The eyes flared back down. Alex released a breath that he'd been holding. "Why? Why any of this?"

The figure in black smirked. "You'll figure out one day."

And with that, Alex was falling, falling, and sat up with a shocked inhale.

* * *

Alex sighed a Fenrir sniffed him and nuzzled his leg reassuringly. At least he wasn't tired from yesterday. He looked at the clock. It was almost noon. He groaned. At least he'd finished his school work in advance. Ian had written his teachers and somehow convinced them to send the work home. The news was quietly flicked on while Alex cooked himself lunch- he didn't want to bug Jack. Alex smirked when the anchor got into the story on the cyber-attack on his school. Apparently, they were trying to see if anyone was going to take credit for it. No leads, of course. Alex felt the laughter bubble up again. Ian walked in looking especially worn just as he burst out laughing again. His classmates' reactions had been hilarious. Ian groaned and flopped himself on the couch. Alex sobered up immediately. "What now?"

Ian gave him the evil eye. "Paperwork nightmare. You and Sarov talking. Dead diplomats. You."

Alex gave Ian his most innocent look. "Not my fault people can't keep their knives and their puke to themselves."

Ian's lips twitched. "You know what I mean Alex. Any chance I can convince you to do my paperwork?"

Alex shot him an incredulous look. "Won't someone notice?"

Ian snorted. "You'd be surprised. Not at this volume. Besides, I know for a fact Crawley did one of his in crayon once."

Alex started laughing. "Really?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "Yes, really. It was a bad week. Now pretty, please?"

Ian was giving Alex a look entirely too reminiscent of Fenrir. "Fine. Just this once. If I make up half of it and you get caught, it is _so_ your fault."

Ian gave him a smile that would have made a woman melt. "Thank you, Alex."

* * *

Five hours and many swears later the stack on Ian's desk looked somewhat more manageable. Alex had decided to make a standardized version of the parts of the reports and auto-filled the information. It had gone much quicker and much less tedious after that. Alex had come up with reasonably vague and concise summaries and had started injecting sarcasm and snarky retorts to some of the questions. Time to walk Fenrir. The wolf gave out a happy little yip when Alex called him to the door with a leash. Jack was rolling her eyes as Alex was attaching the leash. "You do know with the mutant that thing is largely ceremonial, right?"

Alex grinned. "That's not what the London leash laws say, Jack. I didn't make them."

Jack snorts. "Stay out of trouble, Alex."

Alex decided that the rain was a perfect excuse to walk a little slower and check for tails. He needn't have bothered. Walking down the streets was Mrs. Jones, under an umbrella. "Mrs. Jones. As I recall, the house is the other way."

She sighed. "I want to talk to you, Alex."

Alex held Fenrir as a steady walk. They would both be running after this. "Yes, Mrs. Jones?"

She gave him a wan look. "General Alexei Sarov-"

Alex cut her off. "Is very dangerous. Ian told me."

She sighed. "How is it going by the way?"

Jones rolled her eyes at his impatience. Some things were apparently inherited. "Well enough, I suppose. These things take time, after all."

Alex shrugged. "I wouldn't know. What happens if you don't solve it?"

Jones raised an eyebrow. "With this, there is no not solving it. These can take years, you know."

Alex wondered how inefficient they could possibly be. Then again, this was his first cold case. All of the others he had been on were warm, in fact most of the bodies had been-. "And why, pray tell, are you talking to me about all of this?"

Jones shrugged. "I really don't know. You seem to have a way of knowing things you shouldn't, though."

Alex held back a fake cough. She was about as subtle as a rhinoceros. "Sorry, I really did just accidently find the body this time."

Jones sighed. "Would you even consider-"

Alex cut her off. "No."

Jones examined him closer. "You didn't even let me finish."

Alex prepared to quicken his pace. "I don't need to, Jones, Ian is at the house and the one who works for you, in case you forgot. Goodnight."

With that he took off into the crosswalk, and left her on the other side. The cars began to move just after he finished crossing.

* * *

Alex ran until he couldn't force his legs to run anymore and then set his pace at a brisk walk. Fenrir had about as much energy as he did at the moment, which was fortunate. He decided to cut through the now swamp-like park to discourage anyone from following him. The rain had finally quit, but that didn't make Alex feel any less paranoid. He was sure Jones would ask him something innocuous at this age, but he didn't want to get used to working with or for her in any shape or form. The hope was that she would take a hint. He refused to go anywhere near the Bank at the moment and took the long way home. By the time he was back, he was soaked in a mixture of sweat, mud, and rain. Alex was aware he probably looked and smelled like shit. He tried very hard not to get the mud all over the floor and went straight up for a shower. Afterwards, he had an assassin to text. Thankfully, he was sure that Yassen was busy with other things. Ian had still been out cold when he got back. Jack was rustling around in her room. Alex was once again struck by how noisy normal people were. In this case, he found it more reassuring than irritating. He decided he was going to try to save Jack the trouble of making dinner. The report to Yassen was sent. Time to look for food in the fridge. Jack kept it stocked, so there wouldn't be an issue. Alex decided it was a good night for spaghetti and meat sauce. It would take less than an hour to make.

* * *

Ian Rider woke to the sound of his nephew making dinner. He repressed a stab of guilt for not being awake or helping. Last night had been exhausting. He knew it wasn't Starbright, since the clanging had lasted more than ten minutes. Sarov was going to be an issue. He didn't like the way the man looked at Alex. It was decidedly creepy, not to mention inviting him to that political shit-fit. The General was well-known for his contempt towards anything western, so why on earth would he care or talk to Alex? Ian went to his computer to check the footage. Both sides had essentially demanded a copy from every single camera and for it to be destroyed otherwise. Ian took a look at the tape. Alex looked really irritated. Unfortunately, the audio wasn't worth shit and the images were too far away to see what the two had talked about. Ian had 'borrowed' Alex's notes after the meeting that he technically should never have been at. Unfortunately, Sarov could and would cause an incident. He was certainly politically gifted and ruthless enough. Jones had written him an irritated email about Alex not being cooperative. Funny, he didn't remember her asking before she talked to him. Then again, she could have plausibly forgotten amid the circus- sorry, investigation- that she was supposed to. The furry mutant was sitting by the kitchen and looked like it had just taken a bath. Ian made sure to keep a good ten feet away from it and sat on the couch. It was fucking huge and had the creepiest yellow eyes he had ever seen. Maybe he was prejudiced, having experience with wild wolves and all, but Ian privately wished he had been there to notice sooner. Did he mention the wolf was giant? And weirdly smart? He could swear it shot him a smug look every time he walked by Alex petting it. Ian didn't know how Alex managed to sleep well with that thing in the house, let alone his bed. He personally triple-checked his lock every night. Starbright had been entirely too amused by the whole thing. Why couldn't it have been a pit bull?

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was not pleased when he checked the news. He was not particularly fond of the Russian State Security Forces as it was. At least Alex had listened to him. He blamed Ian Rider entirely for Alex's current predicament with a certain general. Weren't spies supposed to come up with plausible excuses for why family members couldn't attend events? The General's interest was particularly concerning. He was a fanatical supporter of old Russia, why on earth would he care about a child from the west? Then again, Yassen considered the man at least partially insane, so he decided he was better off not understanding at all. At least the assignment was going fairly well. It had been mismanaged by the person who had run it before they were sent in. Nile had seemed idly curious about why he used this particular phone every day, but was intelligent enough not to ask. They worked reasonably well together. Assassins tended to be fairly solitary, anyhow. Yassen was rather infamous for not having the patience for any kind of student in the long-term. He had certainly been hooked into enough demonstrations of his shooting skills, but that was about it. The head of the school and Three were not very subtle about hinting he could have his pick of any class. He sighed and read Alex's report, noting that it was correct and concise down to the very last picture. It was just as detailed as some of the information he used in SCORPIA assignments (the ones that came with files, anyhow). Nile was watching him with a single eyebrow raised. "Something to add, Nile?"

He made sure his tone was just a hint menacing. "Nope. I like breathing."

Yassen felt vaguely amused. "I would hope so, considering our line of work is risky enough without suicidal morons in the mix."

Nile chuckled and then looked completely weirded out. "So you are actually human after all. I was starting to wonder if you had a soul."

Yassen smirked. "If I did, it died and was buried a while ago. Just like you will be, if you breathe a word to anyone."

Nile sighed and rolled his eyes. "You can lighten up, you know. People will still take you seriously."

He was definitely going soft in his old age, especially since Nile got away with only a withering glare. Thankfully, the man was tactful enough to go on runs whenever Yassen started getting irritable at the company in general. He flexed his hand before he began to write a reply to Alex. This would be a long one. He began to type.

* * *

The house is clearly and older model, so the fire safety devices…

* * *

Nile had decided to go for a run when Gregorovich turned his evil eye on him. He wasn't the superstitious type, but since the man could _actually_ kill you faster than you blinked… For a second, he had thought the older man was finally learning some social skills that weren't death threats, but apparently not. He was definitely different than most people Nile had to work with. The man was about five different kinds of scary, but he didn't revel in it like everyone else did. Sure he could be petty and extremely homicidal, but killing people was their job… Nile supposed it was more than the man seemed to have unending, iron self-control. Gregorovich never killed before the say-so was given. Also, very, very efficient. It was almost creepy in of itself. It made Nile glad that they were working together. He would take extremely competent over incompetent any day. Not a talker, that one. Pity, because he was sure Yassen had all kinds of stories. Oh, well. Rothman and Three both wanted daily check-ins, which Nile usually handled. Yassen had little patience for anything of that sort and Nile didn't want to have to sleep within ten feet of a grouchy Yassen Gregorovich. While he knew the man probably wouldn't kill him in his sleep out of sheer irritation for something that wasn't his fault, best not to chance it. The guy was really weird about that phone, though. It was almost like he _had_ someone, but everyone knew that Yassen Gregorovich was completely unattached to any human. Nile supposed the mystery would just be added to the many that surrounded the man.


	20. Things go down

The investigation had been going on for weeks and Alex was back in school. Tom had eyed him suspiciously, but had been quick to switch topics to his parents impending divorce and split. Apparently, they were now arguing over every appliance down to the light switch plates. As Alex had suspected, they were probably not going to move anytime soon without an outside force to impel them. He felt like the universe conspired against him sometimes. Ian was keeping an extraordinarily close eye on him. The principal had the 'brilliant' idea to make them all attend forced socialization and Alex was currently checking ways he could get the man fired out of sheer irritation. Seriously, the vice principal would do a much better job. Unfortunately, with the five thousand people sniffing around, framing the guy would take skills even Alex didn't possess. Alex got a text from Ian saying that he would be working late. Probably hoping to wrap up the case before Christmas. Alex decided to take the scenic route down the 'less safe' part of town to get home. Ian had specifically told him to avoid the part of the city, but right now Alex was decidedly irritated with the man. Out of a sheer need to avoid people in general, Alex went into the dumpiest convenience store he'd seen in London. Really, how they got any customers was a complete mystery. He decided to get a snack and batteries for his flashlight. Alex saw a woman and a man in the store, they seemed to be debating something. The woman sounded condescending. "-And _I'm_ telling _you_ , that combination will explode."

Alex perked up immediately. The man sighed. "I have a doctorate. I think it will go fine."

The woman threw up her hands. "Yes, a doctorate in _medicine_. Meanwhile, I know my stuff."

Alex took one look at what the man was holding decided to intervene before there was a premature cremation. "She's right, you know, that combination will explode."

The both turn to him, startled. "What would a kid know about pyrochemistry?"

It was the doctor's turn to smirk. "Need I remind you, Ms. Graves, the age at which you began to play with fire?"

The woman had opened her mouth to protest and closed it again. "Fair point, Dr. Stein. Which begs the question, what are you up to, kid?"

Alex snorted. "It's nice to meet you, too. I'm Alex, here to buy batteries."

The woman looked taken aback by his offered hand. "I'm Tara, here to keep the moron from being stupid."

The doctor rolled his eyes. "I'm Frank, I needed help with some projects involving welding."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You'd be better off in a hardware store with a garden section, then. More selection, you know."

Alex knew they were both lying, but he supposed ten-year-olds were supposed to believe that kind of thing. Tara smiled. She was actually stunning when she wasn't scowling. "Well, we're kind of new to town. Do you mind showing us one then?"

Alex wondered if other children were really this gullible. His curiosity was piqued, however. "Uh, sure. I have one I like more towards the center."

Frank looked curious. "Do you weld, then?"

Alex shrugged. "Actually, I garden. Plants have all sorts of fun uses, you know. Did you know they uses flammable pollen in Hollywood special effects?"

Frank looked surprised. "You don't seem like type."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You don't look much like a doctor of medicine."

It was true. They were both quite athletically built. Frank rolled his eyes. "I was in the army."

Tara looked suitably impressed by the end of their barely veiled conversation about explosives and arson, interspersed with all of them dodging personal questions with vagaries. Alex was almost sad to see them go. Playing word games with semi-competent criminals who weren't intent on murdering you was kind of fun. Though of course, they didn't know he was playing. He wondered who they were. They didn't have the edge he associated with SCORPIA. Mob, maybe? Unassociated Mercs? It really was anyone's guess. They were certainly more laid-back and cheerful. Alex decided to leave Ian out of this. They had been perfectly friendly and they didn't seem like a threat, even though they were involved in something less than legal.

* * *

Tara Graves and Frank Stein had both been intrigued by Alex. If Frank didn't know better, he would have thought he was in the game, so to speak. Tara took a sip of her drink. "Someone raised a weapon."

Was the rather cynical remark. "Perhaps his father is a professor of biochemistry, Ms. Graves."

Tara snorted. She had seen this before. "Not with the way he moves, Doc. I know predator and trained when I see it. Trying to hide it to, by the looks of it."

Frank sighed. People just didn't have any decency these days. Training kids. What was next, infant suicide bombers? "Do you think we should alert anyone, Ms. Graves?"

Tara snorted. "Nope. I actually like the kid, Doc."

The doctor sighed, relieved. His much younger cousin was occasionally obstinate in her immorality. "So cousin, is this environment interesting enough for you or are we going to _another_ warzone?"

Tara rolls her eyes. Her cousin is such a stiff sometimes, but she was glad that he was with her now. After they had first met, they had agreed to leave their ghastly spouses behind and travel the world together. They didn't normally stay very long (sometimes due to Tara burning down too many buildings), but they both enjoyed having each other as a companion and confidante. "I think we should stay a while, Doc. MI6 and the FSB are sniffing around so there has to be something good around here."

Frank rolled his eyes. He knew full well what Tara was up to. Neither of them had custody of their kids and Tara had looked just a touch attached to Alex. Honestly, he suspected that if she could she would take home orphaned kids like strays. Unfortunately, social services arrested people who did that for kidnapping or some such rot. He himself had never been formally adopted or involved with social services and he turned out just fine, thank you very much.

* * *

When Alex got home, he noticed that MI6 Special Operations seemed to have set up a new branch in the living room. Jones, Crawley, and Ian were there. They looked like they were just having dinner, but Alex refused to be in the same room with Jones at the moment. Alex was _so_ not in the mood for this. "Fenrir! Walk!"

The wolf came charging down the stairs and vaulted almost completely past the living room in one jump. Ian looked like he was about to protest. "But you just got in!"

Alex raised an eyebrow, as though he was questioning the man's intelligence. "Yes, and now I'm going back out. Goodbye."

Alex knew he would be paying for that particular tone later. Well, he was running extra for today. He would definitely be sore tomorrow. Grrr. This was not helping his general paranoia. He felt like Ian's job was invading his life. Alex was content with the fact that he knew now, at least. The Russian part of town should still be open, though. Time to practice his language skills. Alex knew he was going to be killing time for a few hours. Bickering in Russian with store owners was both enjoyable and good practice. Alex had decided to come up with different identities for every language he spoke. They weren't in use at the moment, but he now had a few convincing names and accents on his languages. Alex walked around with a few snacks he picked up and decided it was about time to meander home. Ian didn't like him staying out after dark. " _Vladimir liked lime as well._ "

Alex froze at the voice and attempted not to choke on his drink. " _Good evening, General, I thought you would send someone else to do your shopping._ "

Sarov was clearly keeping a low profile. " _I do. This is my evening run._ "

Alex wanted to moan. Couldn't, for once, something just go his way? " _Can I help you with something General?_ "

Sarov sighed. He was probably creeping Alex out. Best to let it go, for now. " _No, thank you. I am sure you are busy._ "

Alex was glad this version of Sarov had some manners. " _Goodnight."_

Alex made sure to walk off after he saw the dismissal in the man's eyes. Sarov sighed-wishful thinking and regrets-he was definitely going soft in his old age.

* * *

Alex decided he was going in by way of a kitchen window. It was laughably easy to open and the alarm hadn't been set yet. Of course, Ian had taught him all the unorthodox exits and entrances years ago on this house. The kitchen phone took messages from the school. Alex was unsurprised to hear they were closing the place so they could get computer specialists in. Personally, he thought they were really overblowing his prank. Not that administration had anything better to do like grades, no not at all. The leftovers were in the fridge and easy to reheat. His homework was done and his other kind of homework was done for now as well. Alex wondered what he should do with his extra two weeks off. Actually, he was tempted to just take a spontaneous lone camping trip to get away from people for a few days. It wasn't like he didn't know what he was doing. Plus, he was certain his sanity was not going to cooperate with two weeks in the house with Ian and his co-workers and the Russians around. Alex decided to pack a bag and leave a note. Of course, he would only take his special phone. He didn't want Ian tracking him down with his other one. They would worry about him sure, but if he left a note surely they wouldn't go psychotic, right? Alex made sure to put weapons in his bag with him, you never knew what was going to happen. The triple-check of all his supplies was done. Alex hid the bag under his bed. Fenrir was sitting on the edge of it eyeing him suspiciously. "You can come with me."

Alex stroked the delicate area near the wolf's nose. "After all, you aren't people."

He made sure to wrap what he wanted dry in plastic wrap and take a few things for waterproofing. Alex would invite someone, but Jack hated camping, Ian was busy, Tom would be a kind of deadweight without a few classes and... Frankly, he just wanted to disappear for a bit. A strange echo sounded in his ear. It felt like Death was there for a minute.

* * *

_Be careful what you wish for, you might just get it._

* * *

As soon as it came, the echo was gone. Alex felt a certain calm wash over him and fell into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

The next morning Alex was determined to avoid suspicion. He deleted the message on the phone the night before. They would send a reminder again this evening, anyway. He put on his school uniform, told Jack he would take the tube, and took his backpack. At the first station, he changed into more appropriate clothes for what he had in mind. He also armed himself- they hadn't installed the detectors in the stations yet. Alex felt bad deceiving Jack, but he almost let out a cheer as soon as he got to his location. He had decided to go on a hike in continental Europe. The tickets were paid in cash under a fake name he chose for himself. This was the way _they_ had taught him to travel. He cheerfully cursed in French when they told him his train was delayed. Nobody blinked twice at the kid traveling in the perfectly safe public transportation. None of the cameras got a clear shot of his face. Nobody batted an eyelid at his story about how he got the husky mix. He socialized playfully with a French mother from Bordeaux and made a few jokes before getting off his boat. He had only left a single note highly visible on his desk. It was brief and to the point.

* * *

_Ian and Jack_

_School's out. I'm fine. I wanted some alone-time with Fenrir. I should be back from camping by Christmas. I triple-checked my supplies and I have the dog._

_With love,_

_Alex_

* * *

Ian got home that day and immediately knew something was off. Jack said Alex was at school and he froze. "What's wrong?"

Ian felt the first signs of panic begin to hit him. "There is no school starting today for the next week and the rest of holidays!"

Jack's eyes widened. "The dog isn't here either. I should have known."

They both nearly ran upstairs and opened Alex's door. "There's a note."

Ian read it and felt like screaming. It told him absolutely nothing useful. Alex's phone was on the desk, too. Great, now he couldn't track his nephew down with it, which Alex knew full well. If Alex somehow made it back ok, Ian was going to kill him. Ian left Jack staring in horror at the note and began to check around the room. He found the books first. Computers, Russian, and a few ones in Mandarin. Next, he went on Alex's computer. He knew nobody had any hope of breaking the encryption on the files in time, but he went for the documents Alex hadn't bothered to conceal. The history was crystal clear. The essays were interesting, but not at all relevant. He decided to read them anyway. The last place was the closet. It took him a good few minutes, but he eventually found the area Alex had been concealing from him. It contained a case with poisons of every kind neatly labeled. Another case held IED's with enough power to level the block or the house, at least. The last one had documents. The notes with Jack's handwriting stored with care. Gregorovich's seemed to hold the same honor. The next part were books that were clearly illegal or based on illegal work. Why Alex wanted to know about torture was beyond him. Ian game across an extremely gruesome diagram and quickly snapped the nauseating piece of literature shut. The next book was on cyberterrorism and the one after was the history and use of weapons. Ian decide that he would rather not know about the rest of the books or whatever else was hidden in the wall and put the drywall and its contents back. Jack had started crying. Honestly, he didn't blame her. It was the first time in years he even got a little choked up. After a while, Jack quit crying and Ian had been pacing in the living room. "What do we do?"

Honestly, he wondered why Starbright thought he had any kind of answer. "Wait, I suppose. Technically, he is a runaway, but we can't file a report yet."

Also, Ian doubted anyone besides himself even stood a chance at finding Alex. "He did say he would be back by Christmas."

Ian mused aloud. Jack looked ready for another round of hysterics. "He could be dead! He could get kidnapped! And-"

Jack didn't finish her sentence before she began sobbing again. Ian slowly approached her and gently hugged her. She turned her head and started sobbing into his shoulder. Ian ran his hand soothingly along her back and through her hair. It was time to call Crawley. Jack went to bed early that night. Ian sighed. He had a feeling Alex meant well, but lost something in the execution of it. The note was about as helpful as a concussion. At the very least, where he was going would have been nice to know. Ian knew full well Alex could have easily gotten out of the country with a ten-hour head start. Alex would be a ghost now, until he felt like coming back. Ian could only hope that everything went well. That and he knew he should have talked to Alex.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich nearly dropped an object in shock for the first time in years when he got Alex's message about what he had done. What the _hell_ was going on in that house? You don't just up and leave with a note unless something is wrong. Alex had only told him the country he planned to go to. The _country_. There was only one kind of response he could give over text to the random decision to drop everything and leave.

* * *

_-A_

_Why?_

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_I needed a break. School got out early. It's not like I don't know how._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_I thought we were committing arson. Hmm?_

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_We are. I have to wait for the coast to be clear. Agencies and mysterious happenings are a volatile combination. No?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Fair. But don't think you are getting off so easily. What happened in the week leading up to this, Alex? And don't tell me nothing._

_-C_

* * *

Alex told him. Cossack merely blinked at the message. He was starting to get the picture. It didn't seem particularly fun for Alex. Yassen was curious to see if MI6 would track him down, to be honest. Alex _could_ take care of himself in the wilderness. To be fair, it was the most interesting thing he'd seen all week. Actually, Alex seemed to make his life less gray in general. People had habits or the habit of having no habits, in his case. They didn't just go on spontaneous camping trips after a minutes' consideration and perhaps half an hour of packing. Even if Alex had been panicking, statistically he would have been more likely to stay home or blow something up. It was his first true surprise in over a decade. There was one more point he did have to make.

* * *

_-A_

_You realize that your guardians will start an international manhunt, right? They are not the type to accept a useless note._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_I left them a note. I'll be back by Christmas and everything! What's the big deal?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_You are ten, however skilled. Think about that for a while. And Alex? Have fun._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Bye._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack snapped the phone shut with slightly more force than strictly necessary. Nile was staring, again. "Can I help you?"

Nile sighed. The last guy who asked Gregorovich if he was alright got stabbed somewhere extremely painful. "Nope. Is it uh…going OK?"

Yassen rolled his eyes. Honestly, the prying was inevitable, but the approach was at least more subtle. "Quite. Are we ready for stage three?"

Nile mentally withheld a groan. He was asking for a vacation after this. He needed _years_ of therapy just from _rooming_ with Gregorovich. "Yes, we are. Let's go."

Cossack joined him and they left together. This would be their last night in South America, one way or another.

* * *

Alex was having the time of his life. He had decided to visit the Alps. People in Europe traveled alongside the road quite a bit. Alex in no way stood out. It was beautiful in this time of the year, but the temperatures had a tendency to fluctuate. Fenrir seemed to ward off anyone who might want to talk to him. The wolf looked extra happy at the outdoors time. The quiet was soothing, he found out. With Fenrir, it didn't seem very lonely. When he got to the top of one of the lower peaks, Alex was (for once in his life) glad that he had done something highly impulsive and probably illegal. The wolf kept him warm at night and Alex even got the chance to hunt with him. Fenrir seemed to have gotten the idea down on instinct. Alex figured he might have to reinforce the idea of no hunting or pack forming in the city, but he didn't mind so much. When they had camped near some people with a particularly loud dog, Fenrir had gone to 'rescue' it. Alex had apologetically returned the terrier mix to the couple after waiting in the trees until they cooled off about the wrecked fence. Oops. His pet had also looked a little too wistfully at a chicken coop they came across. Wilderness was actually fun when you weren't running for your life. He supposed he could take the fur ball out hunting more if he liked it that much. The wolf seemed to like the snow, particularly shoving Alex into it when he wasn't running. Alex rolled his eyes. It was like having a toddler. A large, furry toddler with teeth and claws. He was avoiding most populated areas in favor of the quiet people-free experience. Maybe, for once in his life, he would actually get a break. The last thing he did was make sure his and Fenrir's shelter was insulated before sleeping. Peacefully.

* * *

Ian Rider was very nearly a wreck. He had a murder investigation to run and a nephew to find. He didn't care if Alex thought he was coming back at Christmas. Alex would have his ass on the nearest plane back to London the minute Ian found him. Needless to say, he was pestering everybody else in the office. Most of them seemed to be skipping just as much sleep, if not more, as he was. His co-workers had gone almost as ashen as he had upon hearing the news and were now all working double-shifts to cover both investigations. Crawley was trying to convince people of the benefits of subcutaneous trackers. Ian figured Alex would have simply cut his out. Though, it may have had the benefit of slowing his progress. The problem was, the things could get hacked, compromised, or simply cut out. Not to mention there would be location data that MI6 wouldn't want to risk being recorded. At any rate, tempers were particularly short on all sides. Ian was in a slightly obsessive state over his nephew's whereabouts and was being threatened with getting tranquilized by Jones if he didn't go home in the next fifteen minutes. They had already been over the footage hundreds of times. Alex had neatly avoided the cameras, paid in cash, and vanished into the crowd. It was also one of the busiest places for buying trips to other European countries. The clerk hadn't even remembered his nephew or the giant dog. Some people deserved to die from lack of attention to detail. Maybe that was a little harsh, but Ian was really frustrated. At least it was only a week until Alex was supposed to get back. Ian was almost desperate enough to call Gregorovich. Almost. At least they were finally getting somewhere on the dead diplomat. At the moment, Ian couldn't care less, but he was supposed to be helping. He wanted to scream.

* * *

Alex had decided to stop in Munich for a few days. There was only so much cold, snowy, people-free mountain range even he needed. Besides, he needed to arrange tickets back to England. He kept his promises, after all. Alex _would_ be home December twenty-fifth if it killed him. Perhaps he shouldn't even have thought about the ultimatum or death in general. He had begun to feel like he had missed something. The niggling sensation in the back of his head that indicated something smelled was back. Just great. Alex decided he was going to firmly ignore the feeling and any urges to investigate it. That should keep him out of trouble. It was only two days until he had to head back anyway. What could possibly go wrong? Alex spent the next few days getting increasingly paranoid and taking a new route every time he went back to his campsite, which he moved daily. He would only have a roof over his head for the last night. Then again, he had taken the place only to make sure he didn't look (and smell) like a vagrant coming home. He was still feeling restless and as though he was being watched. It was really starting to affect his sleep. Still, he refused to go back until it was time. That plan would crash that very evening, but Alex didn't know it yet.

* * *

Ian Rider was cursing the day he had ever decided to work for Alan Blunt. He was supposed to go on a raid _two days_ before Christmas _with his nephew missing_? The impulse to snarl out a rather hateful comment was barely suppressed. Merry Christmas to you to, you heartless bastard. Not only that, but the raid was in Munich, Germany and there was a good chance he wouldn't be back when Alex was supposed to be. He also had to put up with whatever socialization and antics the SAS would get up to afterwards. He used his badge to shamelessly bypass security. He knew necks would be broken if he didn't. At least the Russians had caved on coming. The Germans refused to have them anywhere near their country in any official capacity. He strolled past customs, dropped his crap at the hotel, and informed the people he was supposed to be with that he was going for a walk. The raid was scheduled for midnight and Ian was doing some last minute scouting. He didn't think to check for tails, otherwise he would have noticed a very familiar blonde ten-year-old following him.

* * *

Alex had noticed Ian and quickly stepped out of sight. What was Ian doing here? Not looking for him, he hoped. If Ian had spent the last two weeks tracking him, he wouldn't be getting the damn investigation done anytime soon. He hadn't really stopped to consider his or Jack's- oh, shit. Jack was going to murder him. It had just registered in his mind that biological ten-year-olds and traveling alone didn't mix well for Jack. She had freaked once just because Ian left him alone in the house for a few days when he was seven. Alex decided to follow Ian to see what he was up to, plus he was a little concerned. Ian didn't look all that great. Actually, he looked really stressed and about to be or currently ill. When Alex heard the familiar slang and banging he associated with the SAS about to raid he almost turned around and left. Ian was working then. Good. Alex decided to stick to the shadows just in case Ian did something stupid. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in the man, but Ian looked tired and he was worried. Ian looked kind of pissed actually. Then again, it _was_ two days before Christmas. Alex went back to get his jacket and his gun. He always carried his knives, but he felt the sudden urge to bring his firearm to whatever SAS party required full body armor.

* * *

At nightfall, they all began assembling. Alex figured if this required parachuting he was screwed. Fortunately, it was an armored truck made to look like a normal vehicle. Alex easily stowed away on the bottom of the thing. He had left the wolf behind. Fortunately, the drive wasn't too long. Alex's was barely sore once he dropped to the ground and waited. The gunfire and explosions began just as Alex went in the back entrance. He had been following Ian. The SAS must have been the distraction. He drew his Grach and carefully loaded it. The movement was almost a second nature to him now. Alex secretly favored the gun. The shadows seemed to swallow him whole as he walked through the compound. Once upon a time, Alex Rider would have been concerned enough to help the soldiers. Now, he was after Ian. He heard arguing up ahead. That voice, he would have recognized anywhere. The doors seem to have been haphazardly left open in face of the attack. Alex carefully went behind the doorframe and looked into the room. The two men had guns trained on each other. Ian and whoever was clearly in charge of this little base. "Mr. Petrov, I would advise you drop the weapon. You are surrounded."

The man glared. "I think not, MI6. I will happily shoot you before I die."

Alex flicked the safety off. "Come now, did you really think your trafficking operation and what you did to the diplomat would be left unpunished."

The man seemed to be pulling something else out of his jacket. Alex recognized it as a bomb vest and dead man's switch and fired before the man could even lift his thumb. The first shot caught his right arm and forced him to drop the switch. The second hit him in his left hand. Disarmed. The third forced Alex to step out so he had a clean shot directly through the man's left eye. Dead. Ian was safe. Alex took off into a dead run before Ian registered what just happened and slammed the door behind him.

* * *

Ian Rider was in shock. Someone had saved him. The vest was now clearly a bomb. He hastily called it in as he ran through the door that he had heard slam behind him. Ian hadn't turned fast enough to see who it was. Now, he had a new pursuit. He called it in and took off. Though he knew that he probably stood no chance of catching whoever it was. He knew it was too late when he saw that mystery man had gotten out of the base. Well, shit. Jones was going to be anal about this as it was. They were clearly instructed to bring him in alive. Oops. Ian just hoped he hadn't used up his allotted number of "hitherto unknown terrorists shot them" for the month. In this case, it was actually true, but nobody would believe him. This was one of those times being known for 'accidents' wouldn't really help his case- at all. He decided to head back to base and come up with a way to find Alex. He was just glad it was over and that he wasn't in charge of the body.

* * *

Alex Rider got to his tent and swore. His legs and arms he begun to sting, along with the side of his face. He checked. Shrapnel. Of fucking course. Well, at least he knew some friendly neighborhood SAS and MI6 people who would take care of him. He had packed first aid supplies, but not the antibiotics he would have preferred. He packed the tent grabbed Fenrir (who was sniffing at his leg and letting out little whines). By the time he got there, he was fairly certain infection was setting in and that he was still bleeding. Actually he was glad he didn't have to walk any further. He just managed to knock on the door and hear Ian's "I'll get it," before he passed out cold…

* * *

Death was glaring at him. "You could have died of infection, you dumb fuck!"

Alex groaned. Looks like he was getting the lecture three times instead of two. "Wouldn't you just bring me back?"

Death glowered some more. "Not the point, short stack. As it is you look pretty iffy right now. If you die, I get stuck with a chaperone for a _millennia_. Do you know how annoying that is? Besides, you do know infections kill you faster when you are smaller, right?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I've heard."

The being puffed up. "Medicine better be on your list of shit you need to learn. The theory at least."

Alex sighed. "What good does the theory do if I don't have the supplies?"

Death shrugged. "Steal them. Make them. I don't care. The point, short stack, is not to need an amputation."

The world began to fade out. "Wait!"

Death turned. "Most people want me to go away and never want to think about me."

Alex snorted. "I'm not most people, besides, this is much more fun than being conscious in the hospital."

Death grinned. "Oh, I know, brat, which is why you get to go back. Now!"

Alex woke up with a start and a curse. He inhaled sharply as he accidently yanked the needle out of his arm.

* * *

A very concerned pair of brown eyes met his. "Ian?"

His uncle replied. "In the flesh. Nice to know you're alive."

Alex felt a stab of guilt. "Now, would care to explain to me why you have shrapnel burns all over and gun powder on your hands."

Well, fuck. He was hoping Ian's selective memory might kick in. "I saved you."

It was barely a whisper. Alex gently ran his hand over Ian's just to make sure it wasn't a dream. Ian looked even worse than he had before, when Alex had followed him. Though, he seemed to have showered and forgone the sleep. Alex didn't get the chance to say or do anything else before Ian started crying. Alex stepped out of the hospital bed. Carefully, he edged closer and eventually moved into Ian's lap. The man held onto him like a drowning man grasping a life jacket in the ocean. Alex honestly felt like this was coming. Ian was probably just really stressed. He knew firsthand how trying MI6 could be for people. Actually, it kind of hurt and felt good to be held at the same time. There would probably be bruises, but for now he didn't mind. The doctor? medic? walked in on them and abruptly walked out again. Ian was bordering on inconsolable. Alex was shocked. Ian was one of the most reserved people he had ever known. He did his best to be comforting. "Ian we're safe now. It's OK."

Alex still had no earthly idea what he'd done, but that seemed to make it worse. He made a move to get up, but Ian tightened his grasp. It was bordering on constricting now. "Don't go, please, please, don't go."

Alex relaxed back into Ian's lap and up against his chest. "Alright, then."

He was starting to not feel like walking again. Alex knew he was about to pass out again. Ian eventually calmed down and Alex fell asleep, still there.

* * *

The nurse, Garrick, was relieved when he finally found the guts to back into the hospital room and found those two walking health hazards who should be institutionalized - sorry, Ian and Alex Rider - fast asleep. From what he'd heard at the office, those two had some kind of nasty family argument and the kid had taken a few weeks on the street and shrapnel to cool off. Jesus. Don't even get him started on that massive dog they had either. He was glad that the man's co-workers had volunteered to take it back to the house. They had to tranquilize the thing to the gills before it even let them near the kid, too. Animals had no place in a hospital. The kid had been out for almost an entire day. Infection and blood loss. Christ. Idiot 1 was about to be tranq'd for health reasons, too. Thankfully, they were both medically unconscious at the moment and he'd moved them to the bed. They had him up to his eyeballs in paperwork and not allowed to ask any questions. Shame. He was kind of curious about what was important enough to the kid that he'd run off and nearly died before coming back. Sadly, he would probably never know. At least the creepy co-workers had gone home and quit harassing the staff into silence. He didn't know why they needed all the extra paperwork. The hospital took patient confidentiality and comfort very seriously. At any rate, those two would both be fine if they quit trying to drop dead of exhaustion.


	21. In which Alex is sooo grounded

When Alex woke up in a bed, he felt a jolt of panic before he realized he was in the hospital. He didn't feel much better about that either. There was still the phone and his bag to account for. A cursory look around told him that no one would be back for a while. Ian was out cold. From the man's reaction, Alex figured he would be lucky not to be grounded for a whole year once Jack and Ian got over the fact he was actually back and ok. He made a mental note not to throw a fit or react in any way. Taking whatever punishment he knew was coming was probably part of whatever freak event allowed him a normal, solitary two weeks. The nurse had been kind enough to leave his phone, which Alex quickly concealed after sending a text to Yassen telling the man he was fine, just momentarily hospitalized and unconscious off and on. His leg looked much better- it was almost healed over and had no signs of the infection. Alex had honestly forgotten about how normal ten-year-olds couldn't go off on their own. He still felt mostly sixteen and was used to a lot more freedom. Off to the luggage room it was - he'd been in enough hospitals to figure how to steal his shit back if the nurses refused to let him have it. Not in this timli- damn it. He had been doing well. At least Death had cut some of the hijinks, not to mention had yet to fry him for impudence. He prayed that Ian hadn't been told about the mysterious black spot on the bottom of his foot. Death had done him at least on favor. No way would they have missed his rather flashy choice for a back tattoo or the flower for that matter. Alex got back before anyone noticed he was gone, including Ian. The man seemed to be out cold, not like he didn't need the rest. The bag, he carefully searched to check that everything was there before he put the cellphone in it. Nobody found the knives or gun or so it seemed. They had even left the clothes as they were. He was ditching and thoroughly checking everything at home, anyway. SCORPIA had taught him all about the tricky little tracking devices MI6 liked to put on anyone remotely interesting.

* * *

Tulip Jones had been alarmed at the turn of events that had led to Ian and Alex being in the same city. For fuck's sake. She had even asked him if he knew anything, but no he just had to take after Ian and go off on his own. With a note. That was spectacularly useless. Somehow he had done on his own what took two organizations with far more resources had taken the same amount of time to do. She growled at the reports. How had Alex even tracked them down? He had spent two weeks with almost no human contact that they were aware of. It shouldn't even be possible. Needless to say, she was going to kill both of them personally if it ever happened again. She walked up the stairs to visit them in the hospital, after all someone had to. She wondered who the mysterious sharpshooting assassin was. With the way her week was going, she was inclined to blame the Russians. They firmly denied responsibility and were claiming it was them. Sarov had demanded (and been given) the body for a funeral. The paperwork was done and they were firmly out of the country. She wasn't sure why Alex couldn't use his phone to call his uncle (they found him with one). It looked like an ordinary phone and it wasn't stolen as far as anyone could tell, so they had refrained from confiscating or searching it. That and Ian categorically refused to have anyone besides himself near his nephew's possessions. You would think the two of them would communicate better, considering the protectiveness, but you never really knew. She had been on the verge of making Ian take leave, again. Honestly, the man normally took care of himself, but the minute Alex vanished, threatened to vanish, or so much as walked into the wrong neighborhood he went completely psycho.

* * *

Ian Rider woke mid-afternoon to the first good amount of sleep he had since Alex went missing. Alex was sitting in his hospital bed reading a textbook. Ian was ashamed to say that he had panicked before spotting him. He knew he was staring, but he couldn't help himself. The MI6 agent kept checking to make sure Alex was there. It had been a long two weeks. This was far too close to comfort to his worst nightmare. God, he was so glad Alex was OK. He had _nearly died_ and killed a man to _protect him_. It was enough to make him want to scream and cry again. If Alex thought he was leaving Ian's sight for the next couple of weeks, he was sorely mistaken. Ian couldn't really think of a punishment, really. Alex didn't have much for actual hobbies and the ones he did have were dead useful. Actually, he was more curious about why Alex had gone off for two weeks by himself. Staring. Staring. He knew he was looking between Alex and everything else. Alex snapped the book shut. "Am I bleeding again?"

Ian felt a jolt and a faint wave of nausea at the idea. "Don't even joke, Alex. It's not funny."

Alex looked at him for a moment. "Sorry."

Alex didn't know which thing he was apologizing for. Being himself. Walking off. Almost dying. Shooting the terrorist. Ian felt a stab of irrational panic. He was terrified of doing or saying the wrong thing. "I would ground you until the age of thirty, if I thought it would teach you a lesson."

Alex shrugged. This wasn't unexpected. "OK."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "It's going to be until your birthday instead. You don't get to leave the house without Jack or I in tow. I'll be checking all of your school work and you get extra politics assignments from me, since you clearly don't have enough to do. I'll also be restarting your geopolitics and language lessons."

Ian waited for the protest. "OK."

Ian was irritable. "I'm taking your bed."

They both knew it wasn't happening. "OK."

Ian was puzzled. "I'm arranging a marriage to your first cousin."

Alex bit back a snort. "OK."

Ian was trying to get a rise out of him. "Is that all you can say?"

Alex tried hard to keep his tone even. "No, Ian."

* * *

Jack Starbright was relieved when she heard Alex was found. The relief was immediately shattered when she heard he was in the hospital. Germany. How had even gotten that far? She had thought they would find him within a day, maybe two. Jack had to wonder. What had they done? What had Ian done? Alex was already so quiet and serious. She shuddered at the thought of him living on the streets. There was a glimmer of hope, since he had only been gone two weeks and had been with Fenrir. The wolf was inconsolable and moped around the house, awaiting Alex's return. Jack reluctantly fed it the red meat Alex had gotten for him. She kept the place clean and hoped against all hopes that Ian didn't do something rash. She had the time to think about it and she figured that hovering around Alex and maybe actually checking on him would do better than any kind of grounding. Oh, wait. Ian was gone for months on end and usually without notice. Where _did_ Alex get the idea that it was OK to disappear, again? Perhaps she was being unfair, but she was worried. Jack resolved herself to do her best to keep Alex off the streets. It was not a place for anyone, least of children. Maybe he would have come back and maybe he wouldn't have. Jack wasn't so sure he had only meant to go for two weeks. All she could do was watch and wait and hope that one day Alex would tell her everything. She sighed as she finished vacuuming. At least she could rest easier, now that Ian was with Alex. The man would rather die than let anything happen to Alex.

* * *

Ian had been hovering for three days and Alex's patience was sorely tested. He had to text Yassen in the bathroom because that was about the only time he was alone. Ian and the wolf had taken to sleeping in his room. No matter what he said Ian didn't seem to believe that he wasn't going to run off the minute Alex got a bit of privacy. At least neither of them had been too mad. They just wanted to talk about it. Alex thought it was maddening. He didn't want to talk about anything with anyone at the moment. They were actually being supportive. Alex set his alarm extra early and decided the extra hour of running in complete silence would be good for him. He was so used to being alone that having people made him nervous. Ian seemed to be considering something for a while. Alex decided he was going back to his essay on why the Greek economic situation was the way it was. It was duller than shit, but it could come in handy if he ever had a reason for income tax evasion or how to start a riot/strike. Alex moved to go to the bathroom for his shower, his phone concealed in the pile. He actually only took fifteen minutes to prepare for bed, but the rest of the hour was his and Yassen's. It was kind of thrilling to text the man right under Ian's nose. Of course, the assassin was not at all sympathetic to his current plight, but Alex figured he only had himself to blame. Alex had made the executive decision not to tell Yassen exactly how he had ended up in the hospital. The man was overprotective enough as it was. He pulled on his clothes in the bathroom. Fenrir had taken to guarding his door in whatever room he was in at the moment. Tom's parents were still arguing and showed no signs of stopping any time soon.

* * *

The run started off like all of his other runs. Until he felt something on the edge of his periphery. Alex stopped to let Fenrir off the leash and quickly took a look around. It could have been a coincidence, but with the vibe he'd gotten off Tara and Frank the odds of this being one were...very, very low. They were on the edge of his field of vision, much better than the MI6 agents had been. They could have easily been any other pair out in the park together. The two walked toward him. When they were in view, Alex quickly shot his gaze to Ian and looked hesitantly at them. The faintest flash of comprehension appeared on their faces before their expressions went back to perfectly blank. They walked briskly by Alex without batting another eyelid. Ian narrowed his eyes. Alex knew he was getting the third degree when they got back home. Oh, well. He could tell Ian the truth- mostly. It wasn't like people never asked for directions around London and he could take care of himself. Once everyone else in the park was out of earshot, Ian started. "Just who are they, Alex?"

Alex wanted to groan. "A nice couple I gave directions, Ian."

Yeah, and he was a banker. "Nice try. I believed that for half a millisecond after it came out of your mouth."

Damn, that was a little harsh. "Well, Ian it's about the same amount of time you respect my privacy for when I have a secret, however innocuous."

Alex knew he was being a little harsh, but this was getting ridiculous. Ian sighed. "Are they dangerous?"

Alex smirked. "Walking down the street is dangerous."

Ian mentally suppressed his growl. He did so _love_ non-answers like that. "Alex…"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I don't think so."

Ian made a mental note to do a full background check just to be sure. They were back at the house and Ian knew he was obsessing, but he started up his computer. The check took all of two minutes. Not dangerous, his ass. They were suspected of murder and links to organized crime in at least twenty countries. Arson to, apparently. Yeah, Alex was officially not allowed out of the house by himself until those two left. Sadly, there was not enough evidence to justify Ian arresting them on the spot. Jones was also still pissed about their target getting shot, enough that _disappearing_ them would actually would lead into an investigation of why he did it. Not that he left evidence, of course. Why on Earth was Alex associating with them, anyway? Oh, well. He figured it was time to take Alex out for dinner, since they had both missed Christmas. They could celebrate it late together. At least it wasn't totally his fault like it normally was. When he missed holidays he always felt a stab of guilt at the casual acceptance and quiet hurt that came off his nephew. He hovered at the edge of the living room, attempting to reduce the instinctive increase in his heart rate whenever he saw his nephew snuggling his mutant. It went against his every instinct to allow a deadly predator, however tame Alex claimed it was, near said relative. The wolf flashed him a look Ian could swear was smug when Alex buried his face in the fur. Fenrir was emitting a soft, husky noise he supposed was equivalent to purring and lightly sweeping his tail across the edge of the couch. Jack was also shooting the three uncertain looks. She walked in lingered a moment and smiled softly at the sight of Alex and Fenrir before walking out again. Ian felt a flash of jealousy that a stupid wolf had what he couldn't. He knew he wasn't the most snuggly person the planet, but watching the stupid fur ball and what was almost his son snuggle together made him wish for more. He sighed and left them to it, trying not to be bitter about the whole thing. It was kinda his fault anyway, but… Ian got lonely sometimes.

* * *

Alex had never really gotten the appeal of having a massive fur ball that you had to feed and take on walks, but now he totally saw the appeal of pets. They didn't talk about annoying stuff. They didn't annoy you with extra homework. When they stalked you, you could actually avoid them and you got a nice, furry, warm mass to snuggle up against. The antibiotics they had him on seemed to have the side effect of sapping a good deal of his energy. Alex was actually tired right now. Snuggling Fenrir was a wonderful experience he'd have to repeat. It was like have a warm pillow and blanket at the same time. Jokes about him being a walking shag rug aside, the fur was softer than the coarse hair he'd imagined, especially in the winter. Alex decided dropping off to sleep would not be a bad thing and delicately laid his head against Fenrir. He dropped out of consciousness.

* * *

He took in the all-too-familiar depths of the void without a hint of alarm. It was almost restful here, with no people and no colors and no time-travel. Where was Death? Why was he here? Alex supposed it didn't really matter. He decided to sit and wait, adjusting once again to his surroundings and sixteen-year-old body. "Discovering the virtue of patience, are we?"

Alex grinned. "Yep. Is it like this for everyone, when they die?"

Death sighed. "You know the whole peace in death thing is a common trope for a reason, right? Even my indirect, dream-fueled propaganda isn't that good. Besides, I suspect more people would ask for a refund if it wasn't peaceful here."

Alex blinked. "You can ask for a refund?!"

Death snorted. "You can ask. I can also stick people into random weird afterlife shit, so it isn't shall we say...advisable. You wouldn't believe the whining I put up with or the _paperwork_...dear lord the _paperwork_. I digress, slim. How do you like your new pet?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That wasn't you was it?"

Death gave him a look. "It is never _directly_ me, but I won't say I had nothing to with it."

Alex sighed. "I like him. You aren't planning on taking him are you?"

Death groaned. "No. He will live as long as you do, silly. The whole point was for you to have him. I'm not sadistic enough to give you a pet and take it away for the sheer anguish it causes you. That would be Destiny. Sadistic bastard and all. Besides, the whole plan goes smoother the more we get along."

Alex resisted the temptation to raise an eyebrow. "The whole plan? Since when are you involved?"

Death smirked. "That is for me to know and you puny mortals to wonder over for the rest of your natural life."

Alex couldn't help asking his next question. "So if I die do I-"

Death yelped. "No! Absolutely, no dying to satisfy your curiosity! My paperwork is backlogged to the next century as it is."

Alex withheld his grin. Grim was so much fun to irritate. "What did you just think about calling me?!"

Alex smirked. "Grim. As in, Grim Reaper. You didn't think I'd call you plain old Death forever did you?"

Alex dodged the black fireball on instinct. "See ya, Grim!"

* * *

Alex woke up with the familiar jolt to Ian and Jack both standing over him. "What?"

They both exchanged an all too familiar adult mind meld look. It usually ended up with a trip to the doctor or another family talk. "We called you for dinner?"

Alex felt slightly defensive. "I was sleeping."

"You normally wake up if a car as much as parks in the driveway."

Alex shrugs. "It's probably the antibiotics. Isn't fatigue one of the side-effects?"

They both seemed to accept that answer for now. Fenrir had woken up with him and was now blinking sleepily as Alex reluctantly shifted him off. Ian felt a stab of pity. He knew he was going to regret this later. "I can walk the dog if you're too tired."

Alex rolled his eyes. Ian must really be worried. "I'm fine now. Does the air smell like smoke to you or is it me?"

Jack jumped out of her reverie. "Damn it."

She ran to the kitchen in an attempt to salvage dinner. Alex recognized a lost cause and started opening windows. Fire alarms were annoying. Thankfully it didn't go off. If they had, Alex would have been tempted to break into Ian's liquor supply. Jack looked apologetic. "Take out?"

Alex resisted the urge to chuckle. "Fine by me. Ian?"

Ian shrugged. After you ate what was offered in hellholes that terrorists liked to keep spies in, you didn't much care. "As long as there is some sort of nutritional content, sure."

Alex and Jack just exchanged the _here we go again_ look. They were both familiar with the nutritional standards Ian liked to keep. They ended up with Indian food. All in all, it was good. Alex thawed the raw meat in the microwave for Fenrir. As he watched the turntable go, he felt Ian approach behind him. "Yes?"

Ian was closely examining him. Alex figured he would get to it when he wanted and turned to watch the meat thaw again. "The investigation at your school. It got stalled. Nobody knows where the code came from. The drives were also destroyed between evidence and lock up."

Alex turned. "Good to know." 

_Thank you._ "I thought you would like to hear about it." 

_Always._ They went for a walk. The quiet seemed less stifling this time, more natural. The air was freezing cold and the frozen ground crunched beneath the other pedestrians' feet. It was New Years' week. Alex was actually looking forward to the fireworks. _Fireworks._ That was it. Now, he needed to plan. The TV had been giving out the same tired notices about where it was illegal to launch fireworks, the hours, and safe storage and handling. There were always a few dozen cases of people injuring themselves no matter how many announcements were made. At least he didn't have to go to some nutty billionaire's house this time...so far, anyway. Alex caught his reflection in the shop window. He looked sad and tired. Fenrir stilled at the same time he did. Alex felt the hairs on his arms stand on end despite the coat. Ian's eyes flicked to the window in front of them. "What is it?"

The softness of Ian's voice belied the deadly undertone. "We're about to be boxed in."

Ian's eyes seemed to burn. "Muggers, then."

Alex cursed the fact that he hadn't seen it sooner. Ian stilled along with him and Fenrir. The men both prepared to draw their knives. Alex's eyes flicked between his companions and the window. "A three man team, then."

Then, the three were on them. It was over in less than three seconds. Ian went for a downward debilitating stab in the man's torso. Alex flicked his into a spot he knew was painful enough to disable this lot and hit him in the chest and throat in an open-palmed strike for good measure. He and Ian turned, ready to face the third man. They needn't have bothered. Fenrir had gone straight for the man's throat. The blood of the three gushed into the snow, eventually slowing to a steady ebb in less than a minute. Fenrir looked about ready to strike the other two, now that they were down, but not dead. Alex laid a hand on the wolf's shoulder. "Easy, boy." The three of them stood there for a while watching the three bleed for a bit. Alex broke the silence. "Should we call the police or what?"

Ian considered it for a second. "Naw, I think we should let them cool off for a while. Let's head back."

Alex snorted at the pun. They both had a silent agreement not to mention this kind of thing to Jack. Alex decided to go for an early night. "Goodnight, Ian."

His uncle gave him a fond look. "Goodnight, Alex."

* * *

For the first time in almost a week, Ian felt comfortable leaving Alex to sleep alone in his room. Christ knows he had to call this in. Jones would have kittens either way. Now, how to omit the fact he had companions. He supposed his protection now extended to the mutt, since it kept Alex happy. He could barely contain his pride at Alex's abilities. Now, time to get the bullshit over with. "Jones." His boss picked up at most times when he called. "It's Ian. There's been a bit of an incident."

Ian bit back a groan and described the incident - minus a few details. "Yes, Jones. I'm serious. It was an actual mugging. They do happen, you know. They might be a bit um...damaged."

Ian could swear his boss's sigh lasted for a solid minute. "Was it before or after they threatened your nephew?"

Ian didn't know how she had guessed. "Please don't insult my intelligence, Agent Rider. The bite to the throat is a giveaway, since you haven't taken up cannibalism."

Jones was wondering how the man found trouble on a walk to the park. "You got there already?"

Jones wondered sometimes. "We keep an eye on the CCTV cameras we have up, Ian."

Ian sighed. "Just have Crawley take care of it, please."

Jones rolled her eyes. Crawley was already on it. The man insisted on being Ian's clean-up. "Goodnight, Ian."

Ian grinned knowing Crawley was on it. "Nighty, Night, Tulip."

Ian sighed. At least there hadn't been any cameras directly in the area so he could claim Alex's maiming as his own. With any luck, those two would choke on their blood in surgery and die. He wondered if he could convince Crawley to have an unfortunate accident and lengthen their stay in the hospital. When it came to Alex, he was about as petty and vindictive as a person could get. Accidental amputations were a thing in hospitals, right? He decided against it because Crawley would give him the lecture on abuse of his position, again (after he did what Ian wanted, mind you). There were perks to having colleagues with...a certain lack of moral fiber.

* * *

Tulip Jones occasionally wondered if Ian Rider and John Crawley were in some sort of relationship beyond friends. Not that she would mind if they were, but she'd considered investigating the possibility more than once. This was one of those times. The two of them liked to heap more work on each other and constantly egged each other on. And then there were the pranks and social maneuvering. The two worked exceptionally well together. Ian being likened to the hurricane and Crawley being the clean-up. They seemed to have a symbiotic relationship in which they fed off the work they made for each other. It had playful undertones- perhaps she had just stayed up one too many nights. Neither of them had any serious relationships ever and they were about the same age. Married to their work, they said. She strongly suspected they covered each other more than once. Ian would occasionally freelance something Crawley brought up in a meeting, but that she and Blunt didn't think took priority. Crawley, well just look at what he was going to be doing until about three o'clock in the morning. Due diligence, they said. She was probably just being paranoid. Evidence gone from lock-up. Murders covered up and facilitated. Rushed paperwork for equipment. The way they demanded the other as backup. How quickly those two had been punished for daring to try to go after Ian. The way Ian had actually not killed them (she didn't believe for a minute that it wasn't him). For the greater good, they said. Tulip Jones unwrapped another peppermint and decided to call it a night.

* * *

John Crawley occasionally questioned his own sanity. This was one of those nights. Ian (why couldn't he stay out of trouble for once?) had done it again. The cleanup would take until three, if he was lucky. As he filed the (pre-filled out) paperwork (he expected incidents with Ian and pre-filled forms were convenient), he wondered if Ian would stab him if he asked to move in. Probably. It would save him so many car trips, though (interviews were required for _incidents_ ). They could even carpool. Ian was _special_. Actually, Crawley had caught office betting pools on how long it would take him to get into trouble (don't ask). There wasn't even a way to stop the rumor pool from growing (he tried _everything_ ). He withheld a sigh (was it relief or resignation?) when the two (surviving) chumps didn't even need persuading to keep quiet. They refused to talk to police on principle. Crawley had almost broken out his celebratory scotch. Unfortunately, he still had work tomorrow and hungover was not a good look. Then again, if he moved in he would have to deal with Scooby. He wasn't sure if he wanted to ask how Ian managed to sleep with that thing roaming around the house. If it was him, it would be booze and sleeping pills. Then again, Ian routinely got the dubious honor of sleeping near suspicious bazillionaire creeps and their even more suspicious compounds, so maybe he was used to it (don't even get him started on the insane 'pets' they kept). Crawley was fairly sure that was it. As he filed the last form in its correct place, he wondered if Jones would pretend to buy a sick day for tomorrow (or was it today?). He started another set of forms for the next _incident_. Ian never could stay out of trouble, after all. While he preached the importance of not needing them to others, he always kept the next set filled partially out. There was always another incident. He was sure that even if he died his successor would eventually need a set and be grateful for the pre-filled ones he stuck in his filing cabinet. Crawley always kept five on hand (don't ask why).

* * *

When Ian went into the bank the next day, he was mildly puzzled and concerned. Crawley usually met him in his office within five minutes of him getting in (did he live in the building?) after these sorts of things. He decided to walk down to the man's office, figuring he should check before going looking for the man elsewhere. If Crawley wasn't alright… Ian walked soundlessly into the office. Opening the door, he was surprised and mildly amused to find his co-worker fast asleep in what Ian had personally deemed the most uncomfortable chair in the building. Ian didn't really have the heart to wake him up after the man had personally filed a ton of paperwork on his behalf last night. He maybe a hardened Special Ops agent, but even he cut people slack. Crawley had also happened to take a room that used to be the coroner's. Ian pulled out the table that would have once held a body and was unsurprised to find bedding in part of the man's filing cabinet. He gently picked the man up (really, the hours were ridiculous sometimes) and placed him on the 'bed'. Crawley had stirred, but not fully woken. Ian decided that if the man was tired enough that he wasn't awake for a possible kidnapping, Crawley should sleep some more. Ian accosted the man's desk to do his own work (they had the same clearance). Unfortunately, the chair was killing his back. He wondered if he could con medical into writing an excuse for Crawley to get a new chair. It would probably be easier to just get the man a late Christmas present. Eventually Ian just got tired of putting up with the damn thing and moved into the cot next to his coworker, using the chair as his table. Crawley eventually began stirring and Ian just ignored it and went on doing both their work.

Ian felt rather than saw Crawley bolt upright. "Ian!"

The man turned a bright red before apologizing profusely. Ian shrugged. "Your chair sucks, you know that right?"

Crawley was getting up. "Is that all? You let me sleep until eleven."

Ian shrugged again. "You were up until three. Problem?"

Crawley was shocked. "You were in bed next to me and anyone could have walked in?"

Ian snorted. "I locked the door, give me some credit."

Crawley was failing to see what was so amusing about this. "I'm behind on my paperwork."

Ian withheld a laugh. "No, you aren't. I've doing your work for the past couple hours."

Really, Crawley should lighten up a bit. "Someone could have seen you."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Nobody was here. Besides, who cares?"

Crawley scowled. "Only all of our gossip-mongering and extremely observant co-workers."

Ian smirked. "Keeps me from getting sexually harassed, doesn't it?"

Crawley lightly whacked him on the shoulder. "Have mercy. Do you have any idea how much paperwork a sexual harassment investigation and suit is? Please, Ian, just off them. I'll get a carpal tunnel at this rate."

The two promptly started laughing. Ian returned to his pile and handed Crawley his. "We still have an hour until lunch break."

Crawley grumbled. "Feels like cheating, having you do some of it."

Ian resisted the temptation to roll his eyes. "Just turn it in and think of it as a thank you."

Crawley peeked over his shoulder. "Ian that report was due _at least_ two months ago!"

Ian fought back the flush. "I got sidetracked."

Crawley gave a long-suffering sigh. "I'm going to pretend I didn't see that."

Ian felt a smirk beginning to form. "You know…"

Crawley cut off the incoming snark. "If you even think about finishing that you get to log your own reports from now on."

Ian decided to focus on his paperwork. "That's what I thought."

* * *

After a bout an hour, Crawley spoke up. "You're right."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "I usually am, what about?"

Crawley rolled his eyes. "This chair is a piece of crap. Budge over."

Ian scooted over and shifted the paper stacks around. "Lunch time!"

Crawley resisted the urge to sigh. Ian sometimes acted about fifteen. He decided to follow in case there was an assassination attempt in the hallway. If he was there, the report wouldn't be three months late. Really, why did he bother even trying to make Ian do any of the paperwork? The minute they both exited the office, Crawley could feel the gossip starting. He felt a few of his colleague's more incisive stares follow them. Honestly, you would think they had better things to do. Ian really had no idea sometimes. Of course, Ian wasn't the one who got stopped in the hallways to socialize with people, so he wouldn't really care what they thought anyhow. They sat down together. Ian got his usual (Crawley mentally nicknamed the combination 'The Health Nut', but knew better than to comment). He got whatever garbage they recommended. It didn't really matter to him. Jones made a beeline in their direction. "What are you two up to now?"

Ian put on his most sulky face. "Crawley is making me do paperwork."

Jones smirked. "Far be it from me to stop him. In fact, I think a bonus is in order. How long ago was that report from Bangladesh due again?"

Ian felt no remorse. "What report?"

Was the reply in his most innocent tone. Jones and Crawley exchange a look that tells him he's doomed. Jones rose to join her boss. "Keep at it, Crawley. Agent Rider might be able to turn in a non-charred report on time someday before he retires."

Ian snorted. Really, those two were so _organised_. He preferred more ordered chaos. The reports took second priority to investigations and anyway, he wasn't _that_ bad. Crawley internally smiled at the victory he had just gotten. Then he remembered Ian left the paperwork in his office and they would have to go back and get it together. Ian was at least sticking around. The man was great conversation repellent, unless the bosses were involved. Crawley figured it was the man's morbid sense of humor and reputation. The two left together and spent the rest of the afternoon filling out paperwork, although Ian seemed to be doing his best to be a charming distraction. The man might have had better luck if he had picked someone that didn't know all his tricks.


	22. Happy New Year

Yassen Gregorovich had finished his latest assignment with his usual competence. The board had been pleased with the outcome. Three was once again approaching him for something or other. The assassin suspected it was once again about his mysterious desire for him to have a student. Well, not really mysterious, but still. Yassen had other things on his mind. Like Alex and what to do about Sarov (if he should do something). Allowing him near Alex was uncomfortable. Alex might get some silly notions of patriotism or some such rot. Cossack wanted to kill the man, but he suspected it might take careful planning. The General was a dangerous man and rumored to be quite insane at that, but Yassen was more dangerous. He directed his attention back towards Three who seemed to be walking alongside him. "Any decision on that mystery of yours?"

You could almost mistake the doctor for kind, if you didn't know better. "Yes and no."

The doctor sighed. Alex was going to remain with Ian Rider at the moment, however… Cossack was not a patient man. If Alex was put in danger a third time… If it was Ian Rider's fault… Well, there wouldn't be very many options for him would there? The doctor seemed to leave off after his inquiries were rebuffed. The time since he belonged to SCORPIA had long passed. He did work for them, yes, but others as well. Yassen decided to focus on his surroundings once more. The island was supposed to be secure for now, but he was not the type to take chances or rely on others for safety. Three had decided to move on, probably not wanting to push his luck. Everyone knew that he tended to be quite violent. While even he wouldn't assassinate a member of the board in a SCORPIA stronghold, there was no guarantee outside of one.

* * *

Tara Graves had an itch. One that absolutely had to be scratched. She had been watching the kid for days. It was Alex, wasn't it? Too bad his guardian seemed absolutely no fun, even if he was pretty. Honestly, she hoped Alex got off his grounding soon (she thought it was a grounding, anyway). She didn't know what about the kid drew her to watch him again and again, but she watched and waited. Tara couldn't get the idea of the three of them having something fun together (lighting fires is always fun). Her, Frank, and Alex, that is. Somehow she didn't think guardian would be up for a bit of arson. He just didn't seem the type. Too police-y. Now them and the kid - they would get along like fire and kindling. Frank seemed to know what she was thinking about. "Ms. Graves."

Tara put on an innocent expression. It didn't fool Frank. "Tempting a child into arson? Tsk. Tsk."

Tara snorted. Like Frank was any better. "Are you sure we can't just borrow him for a few days?"

Frank's lips twitched. "Kidnapping Ms. Graves. Besides, he would be missed and I highly doubt he would appreciated being regarded on par with a library book."

Tara was pouting, though she would deny it. "He's adorable and knows about fire."

Frank rolled his eyes. "Still kidnapping Ms. Graves."

Tara sighed. She would just have to wait. "You can call me Cousin Tara, you know."

Frank casually moved towards the window with a faint smile. "It was not how I was raised, Ms. Graves."

* * *

Alex noticed Ian and Jack were finally letting up on him. Ian while nice enough, was a trained operative. He was bound to notice if Alex pulled anything big. Actually Alex had been vanishing into the basement to get away from Ian's supervision. Jack wondered where he disappeared off to, but Ian seemed to be covering for him. They also seem to have gone back to their policy of not asking each other questions. Ian didn't ask why Alex was in the lab for hours on end and Alex didn't ask about anything work related. Alex was going over the blueprints for his friends' house (amazing what the city kept on record) and coming up with a plan. He'd already gotten permission to have Tom and Jerry over after they shot off a few fireworks at their house. He reexamined the pictures again, and decided his plan would have to do. Fortunately, Tom's parents were fond of any excuse to use their fireplace. Really, the thing was an accident waiting to happen in that house. Personally, Alex doubted that Tom's parents had the time to keep up with the fire code and argue for almost eight hours a day (yes, he and Tom had counted). He carefully finished his last set of 'unfortunately placed' flammable household objects. New Years' Eve was tomorrow. Alex had the timetable planned down to the minute. Tom's parents would be out in a parody of a nice dinner that they had 'won' (Alex may have abused his computers skills). Tom and Jerry would be at his house and with any luck no one would suspect arson. Yassen had approved the plan (not that Alex had any doubt). It was strange, working ahead instead of behind other people. Fenrir seemed to have decided to glue himself to Alex's side. Alex didn't mind. It helped with the cold he couldn't seem to get rid of no matter how many layer he wore (Jack had checked for fever twice). Alex doubted it was that kind of cold. The warm furry coat once again hit his arm. Jack could joke all she wanted about walking shag rugs, but this was nice.

Alex had found (to his extreme irritation) that the internet didn't have much in the way of Mandarin and that translation were terrible at best. Eventually, he had just given up and began to write his own so that he could type, not to mention send and receive emails in the actual characters. It was buggy and slow-going at best (don't even get him started on translating an actual sentence). It was also more than slightly beyond his skill set (which was more security-base anyhow). The base of his code was the current model the Chinese government had published. He wondered what would happen if he started his own page for something along those lines. Surely, he couldn't be the only one on the planet who had issues with non-Latin based translation. Alex decided to look into after he finished his current project. Just in case, it would be through an anonymous browser. He had a feeling it wasn't a good idea to show any more of his advanced skills to anyone besides Ian or Yassen. Actually, the whole set-up of Mandarin was completely foreign. Between the pictographs, sentence structure, tones, and traditional and simplified character, it was difficult to get a firm grasp on the language at all (at least Russian had an alphabet). Alex had a feeling he might be learning for a good deal longer than it had taken with other languages. Still, the situation found him wanting to scream. The translations had been bad enough in the future and these were even worse. At least there was more than one standardized system (if you could call it that). Alex decided to wrap up his essay for Ian before he tried to take on any more work. Ian seemed to be running a theme of some sort and Alex wanted to figure out what the (indirect) message was.

* * *

Ian knew full well That Alex was up to something. He wasn't an idiot for Christ's sake. Ian had decided to cover for Alex and not interrogate him, unless things started getting dangerous. The spy had no idea why Alex was making cylinders of - Ian wasn't actually sure what it was. He had a gut feeling that it would all be over one way or another after New Year's' day. Work had been surprisingly sedate, so Ian was feeling suddenly optimistic about actually getting a holiday with Alex. He vividly remembered all of them, but felt more than slightly guilty at missing so many. Ian wondered what he should teach Alex next. More weapons? Survival skills? Ian was hesitant to take Alex anywhere actually dangerous. Heavy firepower was out for a few more years. The stealth seemed in hand. Impulse control? Then again, it wasn't really something you could teach without being harsher than he was willing to be on his nephew. Besides, him lecturing on impulse control would be a touch hypocritical. Nobody had figured out how Alex turned up in Germany. Ian was sure he didn't want to know. Ian wasn't even sure what Alex was studying anymore. He had refused the school's' request to test Alex. Ian knew there was no way it could end well. If Alex got moved up to his actual level (Ian didn't even know what it was anymore?), he would be scrutinized heavily. Ian knew he was on really thin ice as it was. Starbright was being stubborn and the creepy wolf really, really liked Alex. The files hadn't really been clear on how smart those things were, but it seemed to understand Alex's commands in whatever language he chose that day. Ian figured he was starting a new one, since Russian swears had joined in the rest (meaning Alex was comfortable enough to be fluent). Learning Russian in around six months, even with help from his language teachers was downright impressive. Not to mention his other form of independent study. Ian was sure he didn't know half of what his nephew was up to, but he was determined to find out.

* * *

Alan Blunt didn't like surprises. Not at all, not even the nice ones. It meant that he had failed on some level to gather some information or correctly gauge a personality. Alex Rider hadn't been a puzzle at all, six months ago something had changed. If Ian thought he was being subtle about what he was doing with his nephew, he had another thing coming. Alex Rider had already been carefully bookmarked away in his mind for looking into. They could always use another good agent. Unfortunately, Rider seemed to have gone entirely anti-establishment since another few months ago. If he were older, they would have checked for radicalization. As it was, Blunt suspected more had happened with Gregorovich than even Agent Rider knew about, never mind what he told them. Then the incident with his school. It seemed professionally done, yet no demands were forthcoming. No credible claims to the action. All of the kids had about as much alibi as one could in school. The teachers had all been thoroughly vetted. Who had done it? And why? Smithers had been raving over the code, and while Alan normally wouldn't care, it was disturbing that he didn't know who it was that was in _his_ country who was _that_ skilled. Smithers was a genius unto himself. The man had actually dismissed his concerns. Harmless prank, his ass. If that hit every school in the country, it could end up as a national embarrassment. Not to mention, the sprinkler system had to be replaced because it had started going off in permanent random intervals and had nearly flooded the school one time (It was only because one of the safeguards had been illegally blocked, but still). They would have to let the kids go back to school and he didn't really have an excuse to investigate further. He decided that musing was getting the better of him and turned back to his paperwork.

* * *

Alex was all set. He had placed the fire-starters in the places around the house, lit the fireplace and had ensured everyone would be out of the house when it burned down. Then, Tom and Jerry would be offered an indefinite place at his house and the 'parents' would probably not need any more intervention. He was sure Ian wouldn't mind. The last step was to lay the string that would start the fire and remove the fire-alarm batteries (common mistake wasn't it?). No sense in alerting the fire department too soon, right? He would sneak off later to watch it burn (bad idea, but he couldn't seem to resist the temptation). Besides, no one would notice another gawker after the first few showed up. Tom and Jerry had packed their school stuff and a few weeks' worth of other things (they didn't own much anyway). Alex made sure they hadn't left anything they would miss if it burned. The fire would be a combination of factors. They had left the fireplace, thinking it would be fine. The parents had forgotten to replace the alarm batteries due to marital strife. An electrical problem and a few sparks would eventually turn into a raging inferno. That was how the police report would read. Alex carefully sawed through the wires, fraying the ends, so the damage looked naturally done over time. He lit the first bundle and switched the electricity back on. The thing began sparking and managed to ignite a small area of the carpet. Time to go. Alex walked back out of the house with an excited smile on his face that was only half-faked. It turned more genuine as the night wore on with Tom, Jerry, Ian, and Jack actually enjoying themselves. Fenrir had given him the most pathetic look in his repertoire until Alex surrendered some of his dinner, much to the amusement of everyone else. They set off fireworks together, but mostly watched the neighbors'. It was almost a perfect evening. After that it was bed for everyone but him and Ian.

* * *

Ian seemed determined to watch him the whole night. Alex had been hoping to sneak off after the man slept, but Ian seemed to sense his intent to leave. Alex finally gave up and dressed unassumingly before putting Fenrir on a leash. Ian was in the living room. Alex was hoping the man hadn't heard him. "Going somewhere?"

Alex sighed. "Only for a walk Ian. I'm having some trouble sleeping with the noise."

Ian considered him for a solid minute. "Are you sure it's just that?"

Alex shrugged. "Maybe, maybe not. Are you coming or what?"

Ian grabbed his coat. No way was Alex disappearing into the night without him. The two crunched along with the fireworks overhead. The ice covered everything. The outside was freezing. It hurt not to wear gloves. It was oddly quiet in between the fireworks, as though everyone had stopped and stared. Fenrir seemed perfectly happy with Alex's slower than normal pace. When they got toward Tom's neighborhood, the outside seemed to go perfectly still. The noise of the fireworks was muffled. The shadows seemed to eerily engulf both men at various intervals. Alex could feel the cold through his coat. His breath rose in front of him as though it were a steam cloud. Then he heard rather than saw the flickering of flames. Alex walked towards the smell of smoke. The house was a blazing, glorious inferno. The flames were beautiful. Alex felt a sense of poetic justice watching the house that was supposed to have been home for his first and oldest friend. Alex stood there and watched it burn. Fenrir sitting by his side. The moment was cut short by a sudden scream that rang out. A women (one of the neighbors) had gotten back home and was now frantically calling in the house to the police. Alex knew for a fact there would be no saving it. He almost jumped as he felt a hand on his shoulder. Ian was standing by him. Alex finally glanced at his uncle, afraid of what he might see. Ian's expression was perfectly blank. Alex barely kept from shivering and it wasn't from the cold. "We're going home, Alex." Alex wanted to watch a bit more. "Now."

No use arguing with Ian when he had that tone. Alex hoped he wasn't too mad.

* * *

Alex was expecting a lecture the minute he got home. He knew Ian knew. Ian just looked resigned, tired, and sad. "Just go to bed, Alex. I can't- Just go to bed."

Alex went upstairs and promptly did so. Ian waited a good ten minutes after Alex got to bed to allow the choked sobs to come. He still wasn't recovered completely from what had been happening the past few weeks and this was just too much. Alex was _ten_ and burning houses down. Ian would do whatever it took to keep him safe. Just what the hell was going on? Where had it all gone so wrong? Why had he not done anything to stop it? Ian decided he was not in any fit state to be seen or heard and went to his room and locked the door. He lay down on the bed and let the emotions that came from weeks of worrying and watching. What scared him the most was the ice that had entered his nephew's eyes. Ian had been willfully ignoring it before. The faint satisfaction he could get off Alex watching the house burn. Alex eyes were meant to be warm, like chocolate, not frozen like the tundra. Ian shivered, trying to feel a warmth he knew was long gone for him. He showered after that (it wouldn't do to smell like ash). Ian felt like he had failed somehow. Alex was stuck in his world and seemed to fit perfectly with it. Alex had lied for Gregorovich, shot a man, and burned down a house. Christ. It was time for a new plan, starting with knowing just how much Alex had managed to teach himself. But first, he had New Year's' day to deal with. He spent the longest time plotting, planning and staring vacantly at a wall. Ian barely registered that the sun had risen. Ian reluctantly got up and dressed. He wondered how Alex felt about passing his GCSEs, getting A-levels, and moving around for a while. Little did he know, there would be almost immediate adjustments made to that plan.

* * *

Ian hadn't really known or registered that Alex had burned down Tom's house. After the initial flurry with the parents (predictably arguing) and Alex looking suitably concerned afterwards. Ian felt frustrated with the fact that he only knew part of the story. One pleading look from Alex later and he was offering the boys an indefinite stay in his house (he was such a sucker it wasn't even funny). Apparently, that was what Alex had been after. The boys had looked so relieved at the news the house was gone, Ian was sure Alex had a good reason to burn it down after all. Apparently, it was Alex's year for adopting strays. Jack Starbright had looked all too amused at the proceedings. Ian decided to wait until she discovered the mess that three boys could make. He barely noticed Alex and Tom slipping out after he began to read the news. Jerry quickly followed. Ian decided that he'd had enough frolicking and antics and began to revise his plans (damn it, Alex had complicated things). Training time. Major training time. Alex needed to be prepared for more than just running, dodging, and hiding. It was time for the cool stuff, plus some of the really boring shit. Not to mention the information he had to pass to Alex, just in case. Ian had trips to plan, some of them with or without MI6. Ian Rider would be damned if Alex would go down without a fight. Gregorovich had better keep his hands to himself, or else. He casually sipped his coffee (it wouldn't do to pass out from exhaustion, now would it). Alex was _his_ and only his. Now, if only the world would quit conspiring against him.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich had chosen one of his rare days to watch the news. The number of idiots who killed themselves out of sheer stupidity had always astounded him. Today though, he was looking for something specific. Sure enough, a house had burned down in a particular neighborhood, with no fatalities. Well, now. It was a start. Alex also now owed him a favor. If Cossack was the type to publicly gloat, he would have been insufferable at the moment. As it was he stayed silent, with an impassive expression fixed on his face. The other students where he was currently residing seemed bamboozled at the sight of him engaging in such a normal activity, though they were quick to avert their gaze when he raised an eyebrow. Just wonderful. He had looked into the files yesterday. Some students held promise- about a third. The rest would only ever be competent at best. He repressed an aggravated sigh. No point in training them personally anyway; they were, after all, too old to truly reach their potential. The assassin firmly clamped down on any thoughts of Alex. It was not helpful to want what you couldn't have. His thoughts treacherously turned to the boy anyway. Skilled. Highly effective. Young enough to still be mold-able. It was all he could do not growl with envy. At least he had a new freelance assignment. It had the benefit of getting him away from certain board members as well. Sadly, Rothman was still in charge and generally used her authority to make the dinner parties about as mandatory as they could be for a terrorist organization. Yassen was on the verge of snapping someone's neck just to relieve the tension he was feeling at the moment. Another. Fucking. Dinner. Party. He was so glad an "urgent client call" was his excuse for the next couple of weeks. If he finished early, well, he had someone to visit. Actually, he'd have taken just about any job to be on the other side of the world of this. Oh well, he had a general to kill. After that, he had lined up several jobs to be completed in rapid succession. Rothman would take any excuse to have him up against a wall.

* * *

Alex felt himself twitch under Ian's scrutiny, again. The man was keeping an extra close eye on him ever since the night before. He kept expecting reprimand to come or some sort of punishment. Alex wondered vaguely if Ian would turn him in this time. His uncle had to be furious this time. Fenrir stayed near him, seemingly sensing his unease. Alex was surprisingly glad he had his furry mutant around this time. At least Tom and Jerry's parents had been easily persuaded to allow them to stay at Alex's house. His plan was working perfectly so far. Well, aside from owing a favor to an assassin. Jerry had been giving him a contemplating look, but otherwise neither he nor Tom seemed to want to question their sudden good fortune. Tom seemed to be assessing him as well. Alex didn't think he would protest too hard about his methods, even if he did suspect something. The parents were even getting the insurance money because it was an accident, an avoidable one, but an accident nonetheless. Tom was motioning for them to talk in private, again. Oh, well. Alex made sure the doors and windows were firmly closed before he let Tom begin. "Yes, Tom?"

Tom seemed to shift around a little. "I wanted to say thank you."

Alex shrugged. "It's not a problem, Tom."

Tom looked more uneasy. "Not for staying here, mate. I meant for- you know- fixing things."

Alex smiled. It was a world away from Blunt's constant criticism. A wave of warmth seemed to hit him. "You're welcome, Tom."

Tom still shifted a bit. "I won't um, tell anyone."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "There was never any doubt of that, Tom."

Tom went in for a hug. Alex wrapped his arms around his best friend. "How did you know?"

Tom gave him a small half-smile. "Well, it's kind of what you do, isn't it? Save people. Just like how bullies mysteriously transfer after they meet you."

Alex snorted.

* * *

Yassen debated a less "dramatic" way of giving Alex his "gift" for New Year's, but ultimately decided the more he was used to human body parts, the better for him. Besides, it amused him to think about the shit-fit the Bank would throw when Alex got his package. Not to mention, Ian Rider. It was fun to provoke a man who could actually give him some kind of challenge. Not that he doubted his ability to best the man, it was simply that it wouldn't be easy or boring. A local gang leader was dead. Cossack had taken to calling him the Seller (drugs, near Alex's school). Yassen was _so_ unavailable for the next few weeks. It would be _such a shame_ he would have to miss the festivities. The staff might not even have fatalities this year. Nile had just sent him an amused and slightly knowing look when he had informed the man he would be unavailable for the rest of the holidays. Sad, he knew, but business called. He allowed a faint, amused twitch of his lips at the idea of missing as many of Julia Rothman's parties as possible without being rude. Nile had the grace to choke back his laugh until after he thought Cossack was out of earshot. It was almost time for him to go. There was a new job lined up for him somewhere in Myanmar. In certain places of the world there was always work for man of his very specialized skill set. Yassen reluctantly checked his phone that was generally reserved for SCORPIA. Apparently, Rothman's newest husband (what number were we on again?) had an unfortunate fall out of the window. Such a surprise. He knew he had made the right choice about avoiding those dinner parties. Nile was on clean-up duty. Three seemed to want the flimsiest excuse to join Yassen in his strategy for all parties and social events involving Rothman. The man had ever so politely asked if he wanted help for anything not in a fifty mile radius of " _dear Julia"_ (he was paraphrasing). To which Cossack had ever-so-politely declined. All of his current line-ups were assassination-only. Besides, he needed a break from paranoid board members and their whims or he might just crack. There was a reason he wasn't anyone's second-in-command, and it wasn't lack of ability. Yassen had decided to simply fed-ex Alex the package. He probably wouldn't speak to him for weeks, but he could wait.

* * *

When Alex got a package on New Year's week, he was instantly suspicious. He knew that he should probably check it beyond a general look, but he found himself giving into the impulse to see what it was. They did check for bombs and stuff in the mail right? The letter opener easily slid through the tape. It was heavy. Jack had just walked in. "Who could it be?"

Alex shrugged. There was only one person who mailed him stuff, but Cossack wasn't the sentimental type. Alex opened the top and was glad he had set the box down. His mouth fell open in an expression of utter shock. When he saw Jack look, he immediately snapped it shut. "Get, Ian."

Jack opened her mouth. "Trust me, Jack, you don't want to see this. Please, get Ian."

Jack walked up the stairs and got Ian. Alex felt torn between retching and feeling relieved. He knew for sure a certain drug dealer was no longer a threat to the world, at least. Ian came down instantly. The man moved to open the box. "Alex what- the fuck?!"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I didn't do it."

Ian just looked shocked. "No, of course not."

He said faintly. The cellphone came out in seconds. "Crawley, get your ass down here. Someone sent us a severed head."

Crawley groaned. "Again?"

Ian felt the urge to roll his eyes. It didn't happen that often. "Yes and get your ass over here. Now!"

Crawley rolled his eyes. Ian never was all that patient. "I'll be there in twenty minutes."

It was some of the tensest twenty minutes in Alex's life. Jack had taken a look and was now retching in the downstairs bathroom. Alex felt a stab of guilt - he had warned her, though.

* * *

Crawley was walking up the stairs, having already called Jones. Ian wouldn't have, but this was the sort of stuff the bosses actually needed to know. Jones had gotten there to. It seemed neither of them had anything better to do with their holidays. Ah, well, then. They proceeded to barge in on Alex comforting Jack and Ian pacing like a panther. Ian was not a happy camper. Jones decided to start with the basics. Gloves. You could never be too careful. "Was there a note?"

Ian's eyes flared. "You think I would have Alex check for _that_?!"

Crawley could see an impending explosion. "No, Ian, we thought you might want to check yourself, since you always want the details."

Crawley was not the best at being soothing. "Where are the other two, by the way?"

Alex answered this time, with a snort. "Still sleeping. They could sleep through a bombing. They'll probably be out until about ten or so."

It was still early, after all. Only Ian, Alex and people with work tended to get up before eight on holidays. Jack decided to vanish and try to take Alex with her, unfortunately Crawley caught on before she finished the thought. "Alex, we'll need to interview you again, sorry kid."

Alex shrugged and waved Jack on. "It's fine. I _did_ find it after all."

Crawley opened the briefcase he kept for just the occasion (body parts in the mail, wasn't the most original idea, after all). Building plastic was lain carefully over the tabletop. Alex felt the urge to leave, but he wanted to see if there was a note. At least his curiosity was stronger than his gag reflex. Crawley then proceeded to cut the rest of the box away, careful not to cut into the head (they did need it for evidence purposes and the analysts would have a fit as it was). A small, clear waterproof bag was stapled to the head. "Well, that simplifies things."

Ian gave him a look that suggested dismemberment if he didn't act completely serious. Jones sighed. Alex was torn between nausea at the sight and amusement at the crassitude of it all. The person clearly had a high disregard for human life, or perhaps just the drug dealer. Crawley swapped to another set of gloves to get the note out with a pair of tongs. He didn't want to drip the blood on it. The smell of decay was apparent, though the head was clearly very fresh.

* * *

_\- A_

_One would hope you learn to tread more carefully than this in Ian Rider's hands. Otherwise you might find yourself in mine. And I am not so forgiving._

_-Y_

* * *

Crawley blanched when he read it and passed it to Ian. Uh, oh. The growl on his right sounded more animal than human. Ian was furious. _How dare he?_ If he ever saw that miserable assassin's hide he was shooting, civilians or no civilians. Jones paled visibly and all of them went instinctively towards Alex. "What is it?" Jones sighed. "It seems you haven't seen the last of a certain assassin."

Alex was shocked. It showed. "Yassen? Why? What does it say?"

Ian was at the beginning of a furious rant on just how terrible of a person Yassen Gregorovich was. Crawley decided to head that off. "Here, kid."

Alex was still surprised. He didn't even think Yassen had cared that much. It was almost dizzying and Alex felt an entirely inappropriate surge of warmth. For Yassen, this was warm and fluffy. The drug dealer was a threat, so Yassen removed him. It was a warning and a statement at the same time. Yassen was right, though. Alex definitely could be more cautious than he had been being. It also took one thing off of his to-do list, which was nice. Alex also realized that both he and the adults had been staring. "What?"

Crawley delicately took the slip of paper from him. "Maybe you should sit down."

Alex raised an eyebrow, unknowingly mirroring the man who had sent the note. "Why?"

Ian took over. "Shock. And that interview can wait until tomorrow. Pack it up, Crawley. We'll come in tomorrow."

Crawley and Jones packed up and Ian maneuvered his nephew into the living despite (half-hearted) protest by said nephew that he could walk. Ian had Alex pulled into an embrace before he quite knew what he was doing. Ian was good at spying not the touchy-feely stuff. Ian wondered how he was supposed to talk to Alex about this. The usual talk about creeps for children didn't even begin to cover what was needed. Besides, it wasn't the usual set of creeps that he was worried about. Alex could take them just fine. It was the assassins and terrorists that Ian needed to warn Alex about. Luckily, he'd had Smithers make him something for Alex anyway. Alex was looking at him oddly. Right. "If anyone asks, the next few minutes never happened."

Alex just nodded. Ian pulled out what looked like a notebook. "This is something I had one of my coworkers make. He didn't know it was for you, just so you know."

Alex knew it was probably Smithers. "It looks like a notebook, but if you flip it open…"

Alex thought that it was one of Smithers' niftier gadgets, even if it didn't explode. Ian apparently wanted him to have access to both the basement and MI6's databases. He was supposed to run any suspicious person he saw. Ian had warned him not to abuse the thing. It could also transmit written messages to one that Ian had. It updated whenever the network was secure enough. Alex was glad that he could run people and not have to rely on spotty contact with a certain assassin or his uncle to get information on suspicious people. Although, it wasn't the only benefit having information could get him… Alex did agree with Blunt on one thing; more information on potential enemies was always better. Alex found himself sitting there, thinking until long after Ian had decided it was okay to leave him alone. He was hesitant to contact Yassen. Alex could barely hold back nausea at the thought of the man. Alex knew that Yassen was an assassin, but it kind of sucked to be reminded so brutally of the fact. He had almost gotten to the point where what the man did for a living was mostly an afterthought that he tried not to add. Alex sighed and wondered if the charade was really worth it. Then again, he knew that his health (at least) was relatively safe with the man (though his mental health would probably be exceedingly taxed by Cossack).

* * *

Alex was troubled that night before he went to sleep. The minute he closed his eyes he saw fire. It was as though the sight of a burning house had been permanently fixed in his head. In his dream, Alex finally managed to tear his eyes from the sight and recognized at least the grey. "You somehow manage to burn down a house in every life, you know."

Death was hear. Alex wasn't afraid. "Every life?"

Death smirked. "Oops. Forget that little slip, Lexie."

Alex felt his mouth fall open. "WHAT did you just call me?!"

The figured grinned rather hideously. "If you call me Grim, your new name is Lexie."

Alex snorted. "Really? Aren't you supposed to be the mature one here?"

Grim rolled his eyes. "What can I say? You are a terrible influence."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "We don't really see or talk to each other that much."

Death rolled his eyes. "You see and talk to me more than most, you know. You don't even scream or run away in terror."

Alex snorted. "I'm not really the type."

Grim shrugged. "True, but you'd be surprised at how many people are. Also, right now, you take up a considerable amount of my power and concentration."

Alex rolled his eyes. "So sorry messing with my life caused you problems."

Death's eyes flared black. "You were the one who chose this."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "It was hardly an informed decision. Ever heard of informed consent?"

Death snorted. "Yep. I ignore it more than MK-ULTRA, though."

Alex actually felt his lips twitch. "No, kidding."

Alex decided he would at least try asking. "Why is there a burning house here?"

Death shrugged. "It's one of those things."

Alex wanted to groan at the non-answer. "What things?"

Death sighed. "Sit down, short stack. Sooooo, you know how there are just some things you can't do without being changed permanently."

Alex thought for a minute. "Like killing?"

Grim sighed. "Yes. Curious example choice."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Is it?"

Grim shrugged. "The house appeared here because it influences the paths your life can take."

Alex was curious. "How?"

Death sighed. "Your assassin and your uncle both have to acknowledge you professionally, for one. Two, you have to figure some stuff out for yourself. Three, you might notice some gradual changes to your body-"

Alex interrupted him hastily. "Oh, god. You are _not_ giving me the talk."

Grim snorted. "Not those kind of changes. It'll be different, but you still have puberty like everyone else. I'll leave the rest as a surprise."

Alex snorted. "Thanks for the wonderful remin- wait, what other changes?"

Death smirked and vanished into a wormhole. "Fucking deities and their fucking dramatics."

Alex swore as he woke up.

* * *

Meanwhile, Death knew he had choices to make. Imbuing a mortal with that much of his power over less than a decade would have interesting results. Actually, no immortal had been able to tell him, aside from a general _it will make it easier to exert your influence on his form_. Yeah, real helpful guys. Actually, most of his 'colleagues' stuck with adults for this sort of thing. Some bullshit about them being more able or emotionally mature. They also didn't reveal themselves or communicate with the mortal plane. _They_ didn't have to deal with every soul of every man-child in existence. Death felt he could safely say that Alex was more mature than some adults would ever be. If he was being honest the kid was growing on him, like a benign foot fungus (not that he got such things). Drat, he wasn't really supposed to like someone this much, anyway. Favoritism was against the rules. Technically, so was what he was doing anyway, but Death had a special relationship with mortals that would allow him to get away with this without the fabric of the multiverse tearing. His relatives could bitch all they wanted, but they couldn't actually do anything now that he'd tied Alex to his own version of a soul. It shouldn't be too bad for the kid, anyway. He'd just be a bit luckier, a bit stronger, heal a bit better and move a bit faster, and be just a little prettier than everybody else. Death didn't much care how his future disciples looked, but having your energy tied to a primordial tended to do that to people. When Life had it explained it to him...he'd zoned out to be honest. Biology was only interesting if it involved how far a poison had to go before he claimed another to his realm or had someone slip from his grasp. It was something to do with how all life functioned on energy and his kind had far more in their essence.

Actually, his colleagues had been suspiciously supportive, ever since his change of plans toward the kid. Apparently, he couldn't screw with just anyone's afterlife, but if they belonged to him it was his business. He could bring short stack back from the dead as much as he wanted. Death had wondered if he'd finally gone senile when he realized he was starting to like the kid. When he'd mentioned it to his darling co-workers, they had just smirked knowingly. Fate had quipped something about them flirting with each other often enough and he'd sent a fireball at the rest of them. A _little_ fireball. He promised. Okay, it was closer to a blast from a flamethrower, but still. Lexie wasn't the only one who liked fire. Would it be worth the trouble to give Alex the ability to conjure fire at will? Probably not, but hey he was already breaking the rules to pieces. Actually scratch that, they would have his head. Death knew full well that some boundaries were not to be crossed. No immortal could give a human a magical gift besides what could be concealed. It was a rule they had made after the disaster with the ancient humans. The Salem trials had horrified the immortals. It had also been the last time Death had ever taken anyone under his wing. The barbarians had burned them alive in the end. Ever since, no one had ever really gotten his attention. They had all been dull or evil or far too rigid in their thought process. Alex had escaped him nine? ten? Times. Death would never leave a disciple ignorant and Alex was the only one with a prayer of surviving or blending. Who didn't want to be immortal and have a ton of cool lives, anyway? Oh, well, best not to tell the kid that just yet. He didn't want the silent treatment. Alex was the only interesting conversation he got. Otherwise it was Death business this and Death business that and Death you shouldn't have broken pointless and infuriating rule number 4578. Blah, Blah, Blah. He'd perfected his tuning-out skills a century after he learned what he needed to know for this post.


	23. Normal is Overrated

It started the day he went back to school. The whispers. The tails who thought they were being subtle. His inability to decide whether to continue his contact with a Russian assassin and the concerned and pitying looks Ian sometimes shot his way. When the class went over a maths problem he could do in his sleep, the teacher asked him to stay after. Apparently, he _had_ done it in his sleep. It was solved with maths beyond GCSE level. Crappers. He had needed them for his programming work and it had sort of gotten interesting. It wasn't _his_ fault he was tired and algebra and calculus made life easier. The teacher seemed to be staring him down. "Can I help you, sir?"

Alex figured being polite couldn't hurt. The teacher glared at him. "You can tell me why you are still in my class, for starters. I haven't seen this since university."

Alex sighed. "I just…"

The teacher (Alex couldn't for the life of him remember the man's name) cut him off. "Are going to report to the office for an assessment that you _will_ try your hardest on."

Alex almost groaned, but kept his face innocent with a touch of worry. "But sir, I'm going to miss…"

The teacher snorted. "I think you'll live without a few hours of languages you're fluent in. I listen to my colleagues in the breakroom."

That was how Alex ended up taking tests until he felt like his hand was about to bleed from the writing he'd done. With the principal and Mr. Bray breathing down his neck. They'd called Ian to. Apparently, they felt like he wasn't challenged enough in his classes or something. The vultures had been 'helpfully' circling (he meant watching) over his head until they had proof. Alex had given up trying to tell what grade they were for about four hours in. About ten minutes in, Alex had decided to actually do his best. He was tired of lying and pretending to be dumber than he was. He also wanted to see how far he'd gotten, since he had no accurate way to tell.

* * *

Ian Rider knew that he should have stopped the principal from testing Alex. It would cause questions and there would be attention. The reason he didn't was quite simple. Ian had no idea where Alex was academically and he couldn't really think of a better way to test him without involving his coworkers. His nosy coworkers who were looking for any excuse to butt in. Ian wasn't sure what to expect, but he was getting a copy of both the results and the tests themselves. A part of him was excited, even prideful. He could always have this covered up later on, if need be. Plus, he would finally get some answers. He'd taught Alex some things, but he knew Alex was studying on his own. Ian still wanted a say in his focus or at least set some limits. There only so much progress that could be healthy. And frankly, he was worried Alex wasn't sleeping well. Ian was also picking Alex up from school. It was a rare event, which he felt kinda guilty about. Well, at least he was here for this important thing, right? Ian winced at the mental excuses for a minute before adopting his usual expressiveness (or lack thereof). He strode into the school, emanating the persona he created for himself. Banker, upper management, successful. The suit was perfectly crisp. He strode into the office with a steady tread and smooth gait. "You called about assessing Alex?"

The secretary seemed to be having concentration issues. It happened, he supposed. The woman flushed when she realized that she'd been staring. "Oh, yes. He should be about done. Your nephew, right?"

At least she hadn't said uncle. "Yes, my brother's son."

The woman smiled. "Quite the boy."

More than she would ever know. "You'll have the results in a week and the tests. Depending on what he gets, you'll have to make some educational decisions for him."

Ian nodded.

* * *

Alex was relieved by the time Ian got there. There were only so many tests you could sit still for before you just wanted to go to sleep. His hand still cramped and he still got headaches. There had been tests and more tests and questions he was sure were above his level. Oh, well. He would take the night off. Alex didn't think he could learn much if he tried at the moment. Ian seemed amused by his dozing off on the ride home. And in a suspiciously good mood. "And here I thought you were going for normal, Alex."

Alex shot him a glare. "Normal is overrated."

It was true. Without Ian and Yassen, his life would be hopelessly dull. Fenrir wouldn't be his. He wouldn't have a nice garden (even if it was dangerous) and he wouldn't be able to help Tom. Plus, he was hoping that if he got noticed by the school system, Blunt wouldn't be able to victimize him. Blunt would hopefully be less inclined to use him if he stood out at school anyway. Or maybe if he ended up getting arrested for arson or terrorist acts. Unfortunately, that would result in him going to prison (not good). In other words, he'd rather become an assassin. Ian was still being irritatingly cheerful. You know those morning people who are extra cheerful when you have a hangover? About that irritatingly cheerful. Fenrir greeted him at the door. The wolf's eyes were now the yellow color that indicated that the wolf was fully grown. It was a good thing to, because they may have needed a stable for him otherwise. The wolf would have had trouble fitting through the door and was well, unnaturally large. If Alex was being honest, he was closer to horse-size than dog-size. Ian sighed at the familiar sight of the mutant. The yellow eyes made it extra creep-tacular. At least Alex seemed happy. He might luck out and have it bite Gregorovich, he supposed. With his luck, probably not, but a guy could hope, right?

* * *

Tulip Jones was sitting in her office filling out the paperwork for Ian Rider's next mission when the lab results from the severed head came in. As expected, there was no evidence to speak of that would hold up in court, aside from the note. The kill was clean. Or as clean as a post-mortem beheading could possibly be. They would be watching Alex while Ian was gone. She wasn't heartless, after all, and Crawley could use the excitement. The agents could use the training. Frankly, she was curious about Alex's tail dodging abilities and whether or not he would use them while knowing an international assassin with terroristic ties was considering kidnapping him. The results would be telling. Alex Rider was currently the youngest and one of the most skilled people on their radar. She was getting copies of his school reports (for Ian's file, of course). Ian probably had more detailed records of both his nephew and his housekeeper in that house. Probably the 'dog' too. Tulip didn't have any illusions toward the family 'pet'. The fact that Alex Rider had done better than a roomful of experts at training a weaponized predator spoke volumes. According to the files, it was the size of a small horse, near human intelligence, and could easily tear through steel (and humans). It was almost hilarious, the comparison between the wolf and the wolf of the assassin that Alex seemed to attract. The program had been terminated after twelve deaths and five people non-lethally maimed. The remaining animals had eventually ended up escaping captivity and trapping anyone who came after them. The paperwork had been a nightmare (even if they weren't part of the program) and there was now a pack of near-human intelligence, enhanced animals running around in the South American wilderness. She _really_ looked forward to explaining that to future prime ministers. It was sad when you thought a ten-year-old would do better at running MI6 black ops than the current head. This was what happened when you let politicians pick heads of intelligence agencies. Every important operation was surreptitiously run through the top agents, who had taken the bulk of the head's work in light of his incompetence (unofficially, of course). It was a disaster waiting to happen, which was why Tulip was glad she was in Special and not Black operations.

* * *

Ian Rider decided to tempt fate and check his private email (meaning Tulip didn't know about it). He used it for some of his sources and some...less savory family members he didn't want Alex to meet. Normally, he would be all for it, but Helen's family were all a bit homicidal. By that, he meant they belonged in an asylum. Ian thought they might be working for foreign intelligence, but really couldn't prove anything. They were on the manically loyal side of things and Ian just didn't want anybody like _that_ around Alex, since they would insist he learn to kill. Ian knew for a fact Alex had a cousin who was about two years his senior and already as insane as the rest of that family. How anyone as nice as Helen came from that lot was a mystery, but not one Ian cared to look into. Unfortunately, the homicidal lunati- he meant darling extended family- wanted a family reunion for whatever reason (The last one had ended with them nearly shooting each other - John had defused things). Ian wanted to scream. Marion had decided that if they refused to come to this one, it would come to them. Ian rubbed his eyes as he considered the rest of (Helen and Alex's- his parents were dead) extended family. There was the patriarch, Patrick (Alex's grandfather), the mother-in-law/ grandmother was dead, Marion (Alex's aunt and probably an assassin), Darian (Helen's brother, who had actually gone to prison _for murdering his wife_ (it was an arranged marriage, but still)), and Marion's adopted daughter (Lilian) and adopted son (Jason, who was four years older than Alex). Apparently, she had wanted kids, but no husband (plus, she was infertile- Ian had felt sorry for her). Not that Ian didn't understand not wanting a spouse, but if it was attachments you were worried about why adopt? Then again, he had Alex so he couldn't necessarily talk much. For whatever reason, they had also moved to some Middle Eastern shithole (cough, Afghanistan, cough), so now he had to take his nephew near a fucking war-zone. This just proved his point of them being insane, didn't it? Time for Pashto and Dari lessons. Alex was going to be home-schooled for the rest of the year (thankfully it wasn't until the summer). Alex was innocently petting Fenrir when Ian barged into his room. "Ever heard of knocking, uncle dearest?"

Ian flinched. "Don't call me uncle, it makes me sound old. Why pray tell, would have I needed to knock?"

Alex ran another hand through Fenrir's coat. "I could have been showering."

Or texting Yassen. Or building explosives. Or cleaning a gun he'd taken off one of the upper years who would've shot his foot off with the way he was handling it. Ian shrugged. "I would have heard the shower."

Alex sighed, knowing it was a lost cause until he was a teenager. "So, we should have a talk now."

Alex sat up a little more. "A talk about what?"

Ian looked tired and almost sheepish. "Your extended family on your mother's side."

Alex felt a flash of fury. "I HAVE MORE FAMILY MEMBERS AND I'M JUST NOW HEARING ABOUT IT!"

Ian sighed. "Before you blow your top, let me explain, please."

Alex let out a breath. "I'm listening."

Ian sighed. "Your relatives are complicated, mildly insane, and most likely work for foreign powers in professions similar to mine. Your uncle beat his wife to death for unknown reasons. Your grandfather was nearly convicted of war crimes. Your aunt is quite unstable and her adopted children are most likely being trained as assassins or saboteurs. For the most part, they treat family well, but I wouldn't be alone with any of them. Finally, they live in Afghanistan, so I'm planning on pulling you from school to teach you Pashto and Dari, just in case. Also, the Bank is probably going to give me an assignment, so you'll be coming with me."

Alex felt his mouth fall open. "Wait, what?"

This was completely different from last time. Ian looked him dead in the eye. "I'm taking you out of school. You aren't learning anything anyway. You'll be with me, unless I think it's too dangerous. Since bringing your kids is…frowned upon, I'll get you fake passports elsewhere. It'll just be us, Alex, it'll be fun."

At that Ian was giving him a mischievous smirk. "What about Jack and Tom and Jerry?"

Ian sighed. "Would you really wanted them with us? They can stay, of course."

Alex cringed at the mental image and agreed with Ian's decision to leave them behind. "Not to change subjects or anything, but we have to go to the Bank."

Alex resisted a groan. "Why?"

Blunt would be there. "You have to give a statement remember? Besides, I'll protect you."

Alex sighed. "You are so explaining more when we get back."

Ian looked relieved. "Deal. I'll give you instructions on the way. I haven't really told my bosses everything."

Alex shrugged and they walked out to the car (again) and got in. "So basically, as far as they know you lost the note and were intimidated into silence by the assassin. You haven't heard from him since, have you?"

Alex felt a squick of guilt at the lie. "No."

Even if he was pissed at Yassen for sending him a severed head, he was not giving the man up, especially not to MI6. He wouldn't wish captivity in MI6 on anybody. Alex had personally experienced Alan Blunt's 'mercy', after all. He supposed he should text Yassen again. After the briefing of course. Yes, he was that petty. There was also the fact that the man had taken quite a bit of the burden off of his shoulders. Of all the criminals Alex had faced, (while Skoda hadn't been particularly dangerous) it was hard not to get personally involved with something that close to home.

Alex barely repressed a shudder as he entered the 'bank'. Into the lion's den he went. At least he had the chance to avoid getting scratched this time. Alex silently cursed Blunt with some brand new Russian swears he'd learned in the market. Ian just led the way and Crawley met them at the door. Creeps. The lot of them. They probably knew his grades, his friends, when he went to sleep...The knife in his sleeve was reassuringly fingered. It was a last resort, but it was there. The path they were on was entirely too familiar to Alex. As far as he was concerned, one visit to Blunt's office was too many visits to Blunt's office. Next was the list of poisons for all occasions he was carrying (that was literally what the instructors had called it). It was a last resort, but he could make himself or someone else very ill. The gun he was carrying was the unregistered one he'd gotten off of the idiot from school. They probably wouldn't call him out on carrying an armory, but he should have probably stuck with one of Ian's guns. There were also extra rounds that Yassen and Ian and Malagosto had ensured he could use to devastating effects, should he choose. Armed to the teeth and he still looked unassuming. Alex almost wished he'd brought Fenrir, but Ian categorically refused to let Fenrir near the car. Right. The office. Alex felt the contradictory urges of running away screaming and stabbing Blunt somewhere painful with a dull, rusty 'letter opener' (it was actually a cleverly crafted tactical knife- custom) he'd nicked a few desks back (it looked neglected and hadn't been used in a while). Definitely a tetanus shot waiting to happen. He'd find some use for it if he didn't end up putting it into the man's leg in a fit of pique (it was perfectly salvageable and he doubted anyone would miss it). Alex repressed a final shudder as they went into the office itself. "Good afternoon, Alex."

Alex was startled by the man's politeness. Then again, Blunt had never been anything less than perfectly professional. God, how he _hated_ that man. He reminded himself it wouldn't do to stab the man. "Erm, Hi?"

He did his best to sound as unobtrusive as possible. "I was hoping you would answer a few questions for us."

Alex knew an order from _that man_ when he heard it, however politely phrased. "Sure." 

_HELL NO!_ Every instinct went on red-alert and he was frozen as the man turned his grey, incisive gaze upon him. Alex barely held back a shudder and the urge to snark the man. "How did you meet Yassen Gregorovich?"

Alex shrugged. "I just kind of did. By accident, I guess."

Blunt's stare seemed to penetrate him further. "I don't believe in accidents or coincidences."

Alex allowed his eyes to heat. "What else did you want to ask?"

Blunt let it go for now, at Ian's look. "Why didn't you contact anyone when you knew he was a terrorist?"

Alex sighed. He hated lying. "I was afraid."

Blunt raised an eyebrow. "You aren't anymore?"

Alex returned the man's stare with one of his own. _Oh, go to hell you interfering bastard._ "I've found it easier to focus on other things."

Blunt seemed to be attempting a smile. "Ah, yes. School. You really are quite the student."

Alex fought back another shudder. "I try, Mr. Blunt." 

_Never in a million years will I call you sir._ "Yes, it seems you do. Back to Gregorovich. Is there anything else you'd like to share?" 

_Like to? NO._ "Not really. It's not like we met in the park for a game of football or anything. He was just there one minute and gone the next."

Blunt seemed to believe him, but you never knew. "Do you know why he would send you the severed head of a drug dealer?"

Alex wondered why Blunt thought he knew. "Not really."

He had plenty of ideas, sure. He doubted the assassin would answer that particular question. Not like he was going to share with the class. "You must have some idea. Take a guess."

What was this, test Alex day? "It could be a threat. He could be threatening someone else. It could be a message he knew you lot would get and my home address was convenient. He may be trying to warn me off or send some sort of message or it could be a sick idea of a Christmas gift, since he was kind of selling drugs to some of the school. The point is. I. Don't. Know."

Jones cut in. "He was selling drugs near your school?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Well, I didn't really have definitive proof, but gossip spreads. Also, drug dealers are obvious since addicts have to find them."

SCORPIA had taught him the basics of some of their criminal enterprises. Actually, he had learned more about procedure from them than MI6. "Plus, nobody in the school wants to give up a fellow student. There is an unspoken code, you know."

He wouldn't have to explain this to anyone under the age of eighteen or thirty now that he thought about it. "Is it anything like the underworld code of silence?"

Alex considered the question. The sociological implications were kind of fun to think about. "Quite a bit, yeah, now that I think about it. Minus, the literal murder of course, instead you get to be a social outcast with the nutritious addition of swirlies to your lunch if you don't happen to be able to defend yourself."

He could swear Jones' lips twitched. Jones sighed. "That may have to do with what set him off."

John Crawley had a question. "What's a swirly?"

He felt kind of old asking this. Alex gave him an amused, almost shit-eating look. "A swirly is when someone puts your head in the toilet and flushes it. I can't really speak from experience, but it doesn't look too fun."

The joys of what he had to rescue bullying victims from. No wonder so many bullied kids turned ego-maniacal mad-men wanted to take over the world. "Back to the topic at hand. Is there anything you can tell us about Gregorovich?"

Alex shrugged. "Not really, no. Sorry."

Blunt waved it off. "Off you go then. Try not to wander too far."

_Like he would give the man another reason to recruit him._

* * *

Alex decided to wander down to Smithers. He did genuinely like the man, despite his deception. With the way traitors were at MI6 (cough, ASH, cough), you really couldn't be too careful. Speaking of ASH...he was almost tempted to use his fancy SCORPIA training for what it was actually meant for. Maybe he'd save it for later or just hope ASIS was more proactive this time. There was a small part of him that wanted to see the agencies burn for what they had done or at least had proven there were unscrupulous enough to do in the first place. Mostly, he just wanted to be left alone and out of espionage for his childhood. He felt old as he stood at the window (one of the few in the building) and watched the pedestrians go by. It was odd, really. He looked ten, going on eleven. He was close to seventeen mentally. His finger traced the sill of the window and he stared longingly outside. The world looked, so separate, so fragile from up here. The sheer havoc he knew others could wreak… Perhaps, he felt the tiniest squelch of responsibility, maybe even empathy for certain adults (never sympathy). He knew he was bordering on hysterical for the last few days. Slipping. He was tired, so very tired. Perhaps another round at the gun range? He felt like laughing or screaming. Lied. He'd lied to a roomful of professional truth-finders and liars. Blunt, the man he was once powerless against. Jones, the person who stood there as he was torn to shreds (physically and metaphorically). Crawley, the facilitator. Ian was the man who had raised him to be this, whatever it was. Never again. He wasn't working for MI6 ever again. Alex took a deep shuddering breath. And then another. He felt raw, like he'd slowly been dousing himself in steadily more potent acid. " _Easy there, short stack_."

Great, now he was hearing voices. " _Only, one. I'm hurt you didn't recognize me._ "

Death?! " _Yep."_

A few changes, his ass. " _You made a bargain with a primordial...think about it._ "

So does he see through my eyes and hear every thought? " _A part of me can. Relax, you won't feel a thing._ "

Yes, that was reassuring. " _It can be, you know. I am supposed to be advising you._ "

I need alone time. " _As you wish._ "

He hadn't expected such an easy decline, but then Death wasn't overly forceful, recently anyway.

* * *

Alex continued to stare out the window for a few more seconds before heading off to the floor he knew Smithers was on. He walked up to the man's office before realizing he didn't actually have an appointment. Not like he would mind. Alex hastily sent Ian his text before knocking on the door. The man was as excitable as ever. "Alex, m'boy, come in. You must try some of this cake."

Alex let a faint hint of a smile cross his face. "You know what, I think I will, thank you."

The man looked as delighted as ever. Alex wondered how he had never guessed at the man's disguise. Knowing lent him an edge, he supposed. "How's the job going? IT must get pretty rough."

Smithers seemed genuinely delighted by his interest. "Oh, yes. Just lack week on of my trainees decided that replacing everybody's personnel files with Pokémon characters would be just hilarious."

Oh, dear. Alex felt his lips twitch. "How did that work out for him?"

Smithers smirked. "He found it considerably less funny when I traced the hack and sent a virus that melted his hard drive."

Alex chuckled. "I actually did have something of a long term project I was having issues with. How much do you know about non-Latin based online translators? I'm trying to make a reliable one without too many bugs."

Smithers looked delighted at the challenge. "What language were you considering?"

Alex tilted his head to the side. "Well, Mandarin. I've gotten into some trouble with character meaning and the structure of the code as a whole…"

Alex was starting to wish he'd brought something to take notes with. It was kind of fun to talk to Smithers about technical issues. The cake was pretty good too. Alex was feeling a lot better when he got to the next phase of what his idea was. "Do you think we could do this more often, maybe online? I'll definitely have more technical issues I'm sure."

Even if he had to cause them himself. "There are optimal places for online forums and I could send the password encrypted for a bit of extra fun."

Smithers' eyes twinkled. "Why, certainly. I look forward to what you come up with."

The man opened his mouth to ask a question when there was a knock at the door. "Come, in."

Alex was kind of sad he hadn't gotten to keep talking with the man. Ian walked in. "Alex time to go."

Alex shrugged. "Bye, Smithers."

The man smiled at him. "Good-bye, Alex, pleasure as always."

* * *

Well, that had been surprisingly easy. Then again, Smithers had always liked him. He was sure that most field agents would be rather snobby towards the technology specialist, too. Overlooking and treating your support staff poorly was bad form and tended to be the downfall of most crime lords, among other things. People were less likely to betray you if they actually liked the job and the people they worked with. Ian was giving him suspicious looks. "What?"

Alex didn't want to know what Ian thought he was up to. "How _did_ you find Smithers' office?"

Alex wondered if Ian had been this paranoid before or if he was starting to have a permanent effect on Ian's psychological state. "Jones pointed it out to me on the tour of the hallway I got on my last visit here."

She had actually. Alex wondered if there was some sort of manipulation she was trying to pull. Ian's eyes narrowed. "You're awfully quiet today, but you seem to like talking with Smithers."

Alex sighed. Was Ian _actually_ jealous? "Smithers is pretty nice, you know."

Ian sighed. Just what he needed. "What were you talking about?"

Alex shrugged. "Computer stuff. Some online programs have these major bugs that are pretty cool."

Ian mentally groaned. Why, oh, why had Jones thought it was a good idea to leave those two alone together? He would bet his considerable salary that Smithers had given him the computer books which had led to Alex hacking his school. The man also had a reputation for melting the hard drives of people who annoyed him or tried some ill-advised hacks (under the excuse it was for security purposes). The last thing he needed was for those two to give each ideas. Ian was _so_ reporting Smithers if any of Alex's schoolmates suffered from the melting heart drive syndrome. Honestly, he'd rather Alex run around with the disguise specialist. At least Vanessa was only passive-aggressive.

* * *

Smithers would be the first to admit that Alex Rider was as unusual as his father and uncle. There were reasons people were now after both of them. He actually, genuinely liked Alex and that uncle of his. It was rare for him to meet people he actually liked. He hoped Ian Rider wouldn't take his version of a belated Christmas gift too badly. He'd sent Alex off with two books detailing bomb making. It was useful to know, even if you were just disarming them. One had the electrical diagrams and the other book had the chemical ratios and components. Both were on a flash drive, since he didn't think the bosses would approve of his present (it was also highly illegal). He highly doubted the boy would be joining any terrorists. Alex seemed far too nice to be one of them. At the way Blunt and Jones were going, Alex's recruitment would be as soon as they could recruit him and Alex would need all the knowledge he could get when the day came. Frankly, he was slightly appalled that a ten-year-old would have to spend so much time at the 'bank'. Overall, he had every right to be concerned and he refused to simply stand by and do nothing while Alex was targeted for exploitation. Ian was nice and all but occasionally blind to the manipulations and sheer ruthlessness of his bosses. Or perhaps the man simply chose to be. You never really knew, but it was worth trying to get Alex lined up for a non-combatant role. Smithers would do his absolute best to see that Alex didn't have to do much, if any field work. It wasn't that Alex wouldn't be good at it, it was that he would be too good.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich had just gotten back from his freelance stint when he was politely summoned to Doctor Three's office. It was not exactly the first time the man had done so, and Yassen had no reason to be worried. Doctor Three was waiting at his desk. Yassen could only wonder what the man wanted. He had just gotten off a flight after all. The assassin patiently stood and waited for the man to begin. "You are a busy man, so I will not waste time." Cossack appreciated the training and the directness of the good doctor. "Julia Rothman has been an inconvenience to say the least." Oh, _dear_ , how _unfortunate_. "However, some of the board would likely be upset at her direct removal."

Yassen was hoping this was going the direction he thought it was. The doctor stepped up to face him, deliberately invading his personal space in what Yassen knew was part intimidation factor and part an attempt to gauge his reaction. He felt the faintest edge of violence bubble underneath his skin. "Is there something you wish for me to take care of doctor?"

The man smiled thinly, knowing full well Yassen would not resist a command from him. "Well...oh dear, it appears I left the schematics for Rothman's security out. I _do_ hope no opportunistic assassins take advantage of it."

Cossack picked up the flash drive. "It would be such a shame wouldn't it."

In other circumstances, Cossack would have been amused. He knew the exact person to find him a way in. He could only hope Alex wouldn't ask what it was for. For now, he had a hotel to get back to and Rothman to dodge. Board politics had always been particularly deadly. Cossack knew what his fate would be should he fail. Yassen slept for four hours after he got back and texted Alex. It wasn't that he wouldn't be able to find a way in, it was that Alex would find several and be generally faster at it. Frankly, he was also hoping that Alex would have forgiven him by now - it hadn't really been that long, but he was already slightly lonely. He fingered the phone lightly before opening it up to text a certain ten-year-old.

* * *

_\- A_

_I need a way in. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important._

_\- C_

* * *

Alex blinked sleepily at the text and downloaded the incoming file. He really should have gone to sleep, but this was interesting. Besides, he was passive-aggressively pissed at Ian for postponing the whole family discussion until later. A flash of amusement came as Death broadcasted him a line that he'd heard. _You know spies, bunch of bitchy little girls.*_

* * *

_-C_

_I'm on it. I'll get back to you in a day or two. You might not want to show your face around here for a while though. The 'bank' is now on red alert._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack was touched. It was almost like he cared. He knew Alex's reasons for keeping in contact were rather a mixed bag. He didn't wish to push his luck, right now. Alex knew he was an assassin, but Cossack couldn't shake the feeling that he was on thin ice for that stunt. Still, if Ian Rider had allowed that much of a crime network in his neighborhood, he was falling down on the job. A nice beheading tended to take care of cowardly drug dealers.

* * *

_-A_

_Thank you for the concern, Alex, but I am aware. Drug dealers can be dangerous, you know? Besides, I needed a break from dinner parties._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Snappy. And really, a severed head? Who the hell would invite you to dinner anyway? Did they want someone dead or something?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_It sends a message. Sadly, no. One of my employers decided it would be a wonderful idea to host parties with assassins and alcohol. Suffice to say if you ever meet Rothman, the cow, in person get away as quickly as possible. It shouldn't be an issue, though._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_She sounds insane. And bitchy. Rothman? Ian told me stories. Definitely on the list of people never to be in the same country with._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack withheld a laugh. He was glad someone would agree with him on this. Now to work on his languages. You could never know too many. He would miss the brat if something terrible happened. He hoped Ian Rider was smart enough to keep his nephew safe.

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, oh dear. Such language. You need your sleep, don't worry about the cow. I can take care of myself, after all. Get back to me soon. And this counts as part of my favor._

_-C_

* * *

Alex smirked. Poor, poor Yassen. Served him right for shipping him a head. Parties and Yassen just didn't seem like it would end well. He might break someone's neck or something. Alex could picture it now. Yassen would stalk around and avoid people if possible. Then some poor sap would get his neck broken for being an idiot or whatever Yassen broke necks for these days. He couldn't picture the board members or teachers enjoying themselves either. Yu would try to poison someone. Three would probably fantasize about torturing someone. Ross would probably offer a 'live demonstration' to anyone idiotic enough to get drunk at a party full of terrorists (what he wouldn't mention would be that they were the target practice). He could imagine Jet fitting in alright, he supposed. Nile would probably get stuck babysitting and trying to prevent a bloodbath. Alex laughed at the mental images he was getting. Little did he know how accurate they were… He redirected his attention to the file it looked suspiciously like Rothman's house. Alex sighed, but really, letting her die was not really a traumatic issue. He began to pick apart the security piece by piece. For the woman who ordered his father's death, with his mother and hundreds of others as collateral damage, and was willing to sacrifice hundreds of thousands of children in the name of profit, he had not a sliver of compassion. In fact, he would have helped Yassen for free for this. Alex wondered who she'd pissed of this badly. Yassen tended to charge upwards of a couple hundred thousand. Maybe another board member? They'd killed Kroll without a thought. Very few people otherwise would have the guts to target a board member. Alex wondered who was backing Yassen. Three maybe? The doctor tended to favor the younger and gifted students. Yassen would have gotten his attention. Chase? Yu? Alex suppose it depended on the politics involved.

* * *

Alex recalled the most civil conversation he'd had with any criminal. He'd been walking home from his new school and had spotted the man in a suit far too expensive for government work. It had taken Alex seconds to realize that the world renowned torture expert and SCORPIA board member was in front of him. The man have given him a half smile. "I'm not here to kill you, Alex. Alas, the last of the others who tried died in a 'tragic accident'."

The man seemed almost fond. "Walk with me."

Like Alex had a choice. "If we had known Rothman was going to be so wasteful, we would have intervened sooner."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really?"

The doctor's walk was smooth, despite his age. "It was only after the sniper was sent, we discovered her plot to kill you first. Self-defense is quite reasonable, you know. It was one of the reasons an additional sniper was not sent, incidentally."

Alex knew he should know better than to comment. "What happens now, doctor?"

The man raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you are out of espionage permanently."

Alex half-glared at him. "You suppose correctly."

The man maintained their walking pace. "A shame, really, you would have made a wonderful sight to watch or perhaps work with."

Alex nearly retorted, but remembered the armed gunman near his school. "Since you are out permanently, I see no reason to punish you further than you already have been. The loss of a loved one is quite excruciating."

Alex rose to the obvious bait. "And entirely the fault of the board. Everyone knows you guys do unanimous decisions, you know."

The doctor sighed. "I was against Razim's recruitment and the twins, so gauche, but sometimes there are survival votes, Alex."

Alex sighed. "Just don't try anything here."

The doctor had the faintest hint of a smirk as they arrived at the front of the Pleasure's house. "I wouldn't dream of it, after all, you might have another _accident_."

Alex rolled his eyes as the man exited. Over-dramatic prats. Why was it that _no one_ believed him when he claimed that those dead guys _really were_ an accident?

* * *

Alex decided to sleep. Oh, well, normal was overrated right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *This sentence is from Burn Notice, don't remember which episode.


	24. A Letter from Russia

Alex woke up with the feeling he'd forgotten something, which he had, of course. The day started out as normal before Ian casually announced Alex would be home-schooled until further notice. Surprisingly, Jack and Jerry were the ones who immediately protested. Tom seemed to know better than to argue, at least for now. Jack seemed really upset. "Ian, are you serious?!"

The man raised an eyebrow. "Of course, I am. I take Alex's education very seriously."

Jerry decided to cut in. "Um, I hate to interrupt, but what about his social development? Friends and stuff are important too."

Ian shrugged. "Well, you'll be here, besides I'm sure Alex will turn out just fine."

Jack sighed. She really, really questioned the man's sanity at times. "Why?"

Ian figured there would be some sort of resistance. "Alex has a family reunion in Afghanistan to prepare for." With that, he left for work.

Jack felt like screaming sometimes. "That man, I swear-" Alex cut her off. "It's fine, Jack." Jack sighed. "I guess only Tom and Jerry are going to school. In the meantime, do you know anyone named Alexei Sarov?"

Alex forced his voice to sound casual. "Oh, yeah. We met at that giant party thing Ian took me to. Why?"

Jack handed him a letter with neat, aristocratically beautiful cursive. "Looks like he sent you a letter."

Alex just couldn't wait. What was it with him and blonde, older, Russian men? Honestly, did he have a tattoo on his forehead that he didn't know about? _No, but I can give you one._ Shut up, Death. _Aww. Having a bad day? You might even start swearing next._ Alex thought of the fire alarms at his school and fixed his mind on reproducing the sound perfectly in his mind. _Aww. Fine. I'll leave you alone, for now._

Alex took the envelope. "Thank you, Jack."

He turned to his friends. "Don't burn down the school without me."

Then, Alex went back upstairs. He hadn't expected Ian to have already have withdrawn him, but he supposed he could work on his mandarin. And email Smithers. And maybe work on all his other activities. _You should read your letter._ Thanks a lot, Death, I gathered. _I mean first, you grouchy swat._ OK, no need to get pissy, Grim. Alex cut open his letter with his new and (now much more appreciated) letter opener. It was written in the same elaborate cursive.

* * *

_Dear Alex Rider,_

_It seems only yesterday that we were talking in the halls of your people's' government. As you can see, my English is fairly proficient. I was glad to meet you, despite the aggravating circumstances and underlying tensions. I have heard you made a brief stay in the hospital (from my sources). I hope your misadventure was not too severe. The investigation you were rather dragged into has been concluded with the death of the perpetrator. The political implications of the assassination of the culprit have been far-reaching and beneficial to everyone, in the long run, however, they put both parties in an awkward spot. Needless to say, we will most likely not be meeting face-to-face for some time. I am well and attempting to consolidate my position in the government, as well. As you probably know, Russian governments historically have a rather tenuous history with their popular generals. The current president is, shall we say, nervous. He is a believer in old Russia, not the new shade we currently live in. I think you would have loved my country as it once was, at the height of its greatness. This brings me to the reason I am writing to you. I once had a son, named Vladimir. You look so very much like him. I thought I was seeing a ghost, at first. He is long dead, but you are living. You speak Russian. You are even active as he once was. Would you write to me? I haven't a family left to speak of, so perhaps you will humor me. I know you are not my son, but you are so much like him. I would discuss anything that would not compromise my work and perhaps we could be friends, even a world apart._

_I hope this letter finds you in good health,_

_General Alexei Sarov_

* * *

Alex raised an eyebrow. Well, it was surprisingly non-creepy, all things considered. He supposed the man simply was lonely at this point. Alex felt really, really sorry for the man. Watching the living almost-clone of your son in front of you had to be excruciating. Alex sucked in a breath and let it out in a huff. Ian really was going to murder him when he found out. Letters weren't exactly the most subtle. He penned a reply in neat, Cyrillic letters.

* * *

_Dear General Sarov,_

_I hope your plans are going well…_

* * *

Alex pasted the stamps on the envelope, carefully wrote out the address and decided to take Fenrir for a walk. He pinned a note to the fridge and caught the leash Fenrir had thrown at him when called for a walk. The post box was on the way to the park. Alex knew that the faint twitch at the back of his mind meant trouble was going to fall upon him, but he decidedly was prepared. To the park they went. He ran into Tara and Dr. Stein almost immediately. Oops, sorry, Ian. "Hey, guys."

Tara flipped her hair. "Who are you calling a man?"

Alex grinned. "And ladies, I suppose."

Tara flipped him off. "At least I'm not currently hormonal enough to drool at anything female."

Tara smirked. "True. Just wait a few years, though."

Alex felt his lips twitch. "To what do I owe the supposed pleasure?"

Tara rolled her eyes. "You know you like me, brat. Besides, who else do you know who plays with fire?"

Alex sighed. "Good point."

Tara looked almost a little too eager at this point. "Think your guardian can spare you for an afternoon?"

Alex grinned. Ian was going to murder him, but he had a feeling this would be worth it. "Why not?" Fenrir seemed to think these two weren't a threat. If they were, Alex could always poison them. Tara skipped alongside her two companions. Alex and Frank exchanged amused expressions. When they got to the apartment on the dingier side of town, Alex's theory was confirmed. Tara locked the door behind them. "So what are we doing today?" Fenrir sat beside him.

"Learning to build awesome colorful car bombs!" Alex barely resisted laughter. She reminded him of Tiger from _Winnie the Pooh._ A demented, terroristic Tiger.

Frank rolled his eyes. "Oh, bother, try to stay calm, Ms. Graves."

Alex almost cracked a rib from trying not to laugh at the mental image. "What are they for?"

Tara grinned. "You'll see. No fun in building, if you can't watch it go boom." Alex was glad he'd memorized the diagrams Smithers had given him. Tara was still smiling as she lay the materials on the table.

* * *

Several hours later…

* * *

Alex had no idea terrorist bomb build-offs could be this fun. It was almost comical how Tara bounced around the apartment quivering with anticipation. "This is going to be awesome!" Tara apparently couldn't wait to blow up whatever it was. Alex hoped so, considering he'd just remembered that he was still supposedly grounded. Suddenly, his phone rang.

Alex picked it up after the first tone. "Rider."

It was Ian. "Alex, you haven't gone to a German mountain range have you?"

Alex snorted. "It was once, Ian, once."

The faint hint of a warning was in his uncle's voice. "Alex."

Alex rolled his eyes. "No. Why are you calling?" Alex knew full well why. "Fenrir's walk is taking a really long time, isn't it?"

Alex sighed. Honestly, he'd forgotten his excuse. "Yes, Ian, yes it is. I'll see you at dinner." Alex hung up. "Hey, Tara, time to go."

Tara was wrapping the 'packages' in brown paper. They left and made their way to an abandoned car lot. Apparently, they were committing some sort of insurance fraud. Tara placed the rather plain-looking packages in various spots and had everyone back away from the area. Alex figured he just wouldn't report this. The government was going to be the one footing the bill and after the suffering, they had caused him, Alex was more than willing to watch them have to pay for damages. The explosion was really colorful. Alex suspected that they were intentionally colored the way fireworks were. It was kind of awesome to watch. Especially because it was a car lot - he hadn't really liked them much since Cornwall. Unfortunately, he also smelled like gunpowder and explosives. Looks like Fenrir was going to take the blame for him falling in a puddle. Ian was paranoid enough about letting him out of the house as it was. The mud should cover both of them up nicely. Alex made sure that both of them were almost completely covered before knocking on the door.

Ian opened it. "Alex, why didn't you just- What happened?!"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "And here I thought we had a few more years before the blindness sets in."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Not the time for antics, Alex." The man was already grabbing towels.

"I fell in the largest, most muddy puddle you've ever seen in the dead of winter."

Ian sighs. "A rather difficult accomplishment, considering that the parts of town you're allowed in are all frozen over."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Now, Ian, really? I could be getting hypothermia."

His uncle smirked. "Nope, we have at least twenty more minutes."

Alex blinked. "IAN!"

* * *

After both Alex and Fenrir had a bath, it was time for dinner. Alex was just glad that his plan involving freezing muck had worked. It wasn't fun to bathe in the stuff, but he'd had worse. Jack and Ian had just looked more amused than anything else. Thank god nobody suspected anything. The news came on minutes later. "There was a curious explosion today in a deserted parking lot. The police have reported no casualties or witnesses. Anyone who knows anything is urged to come forward…" Ian looked at him.

"What?" Alex looked perfectly innocent.

Ian sighed. "It better have not been you."

Alex protested. "Oh come on, there are actual terrorists who do this kind of stuff. It can't all be me."

Ian gave him a long measuring look. "I believe you, for now."

Alex rolled his eyes. Paranoid git. Not that he didn't have a point, but still. Jack sighed. Jerry and Tom just looked at him. "Oh, come on!" He wondered if Ian was rubbing off on them. At least Tara and Dr. Stein were going to be out of town for a while. Alex would hate to see them arrested, especially since they hadn't murdered anyone. Unfortunately, a certain assassin would probably be harder to convince.

* * *

_-A_

_Out with it._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_With what?_

_-A_

* * *

You would honestly think Alex could come up with something better than that. Cossack knew that Alex looked after his own neighborhood, like any good spy or criminal. Besides, Alex tended to like things that went boom a little too much for his liking.

* * *

_-A_

_Whatever lunacy drove your city's most current explosion._

_-C_

* * *

And it was lunacy. Combined boredom and recklessness. Alex probably needed a more challenging curriculum, after all, bored students were students who had time to do stupid shit. Cough. Blowing stuff up for no reason. Cough.

* * *

_-C_

_Why do you think it was me? It could have been someone else. Plus, who said I knew how to build bombs?_

_-A_

* * *

It was worth a try. Maybe Yassen would buy it?

* * *

_-A_

_I would be very shocked if you didn't at least know who did it._

_-C_

* * *

Why did all the adults suddenly think he was omniscient? He wasn't a god (Hi, Death). They probably had more people in their little information networks than Alex ever had. It wasn't his fault trouble found him. Admittedly, he sometimes went looking, but it wasn't all the time.

* * *

_-C_

_Why does everybody blame the innocent ten-year-old?_

_-A_

* * *

Cossack snorted aloud for the first time in years. Innocent his ass. He had a section of beachfront property in Nebraska* for whoever believed that. In the meantime, the story behind this had to be good…

* * *

_-A_

_Innocent, my ass. Do I need to buy a plane ticket or are you going to confess?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex rolled his eyes. This was completely unfair. And under duress, totally under duress. Actually, he normally wouldn't mind seeing Yassen again, but pissed-off Yassen was a different story. On second thought…

* * *

_-C_

_Keep your hat on. This is totally duress!_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Noted. Now, confession time, yes?_

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_So I met these two people in a convenience store on the dodgier side of town. They were talking about explosions and I kept them from arguing about the ratios for the chemicals in 'welding' and pointed them out to the nearest home and gardening store._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack was rarely wrong about these things. He decided he'd translate into law enforcement for Alex, just to prove his point.

* * *

_-A_

_Aiding and abetting. Possible conspiracy charges. Do go on._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Then we met again at a park and Ian got curious, but I figured they were comparatively harmless and told him as much. Then, we met again when I was walking my dog. Ian withdrew me from school so I had the day off._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Why are you getting withdrawn from school?_

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Apparently, it's not challenging enough. And I have to prepare for the family reunion in Afghanistan this summer._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack could agree with that. If Alex had time to wander off with terrorist sociopaths, Alex clearly needed more things to fill his time with. On the other hand…

* * *

_-A_

_You have_ _other relatives?_

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_On mom's side of the family. They're apparently Mossad fanatics from what I gather was supposed to be a subtle warning from Ian. Also, one of them murdered a family member._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Fantastic. Continuing with the bombing._

_-C_

* * *

Note the sarcasm. Alex might get 'kidnapped' sometime before summer then. He supposed letting Ian Rider teach him until then would be an advantage. He wondered if Alex would come willingly.

* * *

_-C_

_So I decided to go with them, having nothing better to do._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_I am starting to see your uncle's point._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_And we kind of had a bomb-building competition. Fortunately, I know most of the basics. It was kind of fun if you don't mind the smell and colorful explosions. After that, we went to the (clearly deserted) parking lot and had at it. You should try it sometime, it might improve your mood._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_I have better things to do with my time. And a job. And bosses who frown on unnecessary property destruction. And a need to avoid the radar of certain authorities, which you should be doing too._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_You're pissed, aren't you?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_No, Alex. Merely, irritated. Your actions were reckless, your timing was exceedingly poor, and you did not even surveil two unknown operatives before joining in on their destruction spree, which could have ended badly. Not to mention, your uncle will probably be suspicious._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_How's the cow farming going?_

_-A_

* * *

Cow farming? Oh, oh. Alex had figured it out. Well, then, Cossack may as well keep him updated.

* * *

_-A_

_Well, thank you. Your help was appreciated. I will keep you apprised, though you need not worry about my health._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Hypocritical much?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, I am the adult here._

_-C_

* * *

_-C_

_Fine. But don't get shot and wear a bulletproof vest._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Goodnight, Alex._

_-C_

* * *

It was almost touching. The worry that Alex Rider held for him. The sad part was, it was probably nicest thing people had said to him in years. It would be nice to have a partner who cared enough to watch his back. Cossack sighed and checked his rifle a third time. For this, he was effectively freelance, even if Three was backing him. Rothman's bulletproof glass wouldn't hold up under the caliber of gun he had, although it was complete overkill on a person (it would do the job, however). This was no time to get sentimental. Rothman needed to be taken out. She would look out the window and admire the view her house provided her with one final time this week. If all went well, she would be the only casualty, even if Yassen had long ago stopped caring about such things. Yassen stripped the rifle one final time. Scheduling would be tight tomorrow if he didn't want to contend with her security team and Nile. He studied Korean for a while before going to sleep. You could never know too many languages.

* * *

Alex was studying Mandarin Chinese and trying not to worry about a certain assassin when Ian came into his room.

"Alex, this needs to stop. You need to stop."

Alex blinked and snapped his textbooks shut. "Shouldn't you have knocked? And you might wanna specify."

Ian sighed. "Fixated on privacy much? And I mean your _activities._ Attacking your school. Provoking assassins. Blowing parking lots up for fun. These things get you _attention._ Not the good kind, either. It's why I'm withdrawing you from school. Clearly, you're bored and bored students are students who have time to do stupid shit." It was what the army and MI6 said about these things. The last thing he wanted was to have to break Alex out of max security run by his boss.

"I understand that part, but what about your job? You can't just home-school me for the next few months until July."

Ian shrugged. "You'll come with me. Mind you, you'll have to follow my instructions and I'll probably be a lot stricter, but otherwise it should be about normal for us. If it's really dangerous, I'll tell you to stay inside." Alex sighed. Ian would probably know best, but now he had two adults to worry about. Ian continued. "Thing three. Is there anything you want to tell me? Anything at all?"

Alex really hated that look. "No, Ian." Alex had just barely refrained from saying no, sir. That wouldn't have ended well. It kind of reminded him of when the Sarge asked if he wanted to report anyone.

Ian sighed. "Right, about your family-"

Alex interrupted. "Mossad fanatics?"

Ian shrugged. "My best guess, yeah. Try not to worry about it right now." Oh, yes, right now. _That_ was reassuring.

He wondered why Ian was caving this easy. And why he hadn't met these people the last time around. "So what do you want to know about your relatives?"

Right, he was talking to Ian now. "Why didn't we meet or even discuss them before?"

Ian sighed. "I didn't really want you around them. Your adopted cousins aren't the most stable and the 'adults' are … not exactly the best influence."

Alex sighed. "I'm still kind of mad at you."

Ian sat down on the bed. "Alex, when I keep secrets from you, it's usually for your safety, not because I like to."

Alex ran his fingers through Fenrir's coat. "I know."

Ian looked relieved. "By the way, we are heading to Mexico."

Alex figured it was time to polish his accents with Spanish, anyway. "What is it this time?"

Ian grinned. "Drug cartels, what else?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Stereotyping Ian, really? Besides, the food should be decently priced."

Ian shook his head, wryly. "Stereotypes exist for a reason, besides this is the part where I tell you that if I catch you anywhere near drugs, you _will_ live to regret it."

Alex actually snorted. "No worries on that front, Ian. I like my brain cells intact."

Not to mention, if Ian didn't murder him, Yassen would. "Also, we're going to discuss your schedule since your test results came in."

Alex perked up. Ian's lesson were always much better than school in his opinion. "Right, so, you'll have your daily workout, four hours of languages, regular school condensed to three hours every other day and lessons in what I deem important academic subjects for three hours on the other days. You can have the rest of the time off, but I expect you to monitor your own sleep and keep it reasonable."

Alex shrugged. It was pretty much what he had in mind, though he would have made an allowance for his personal projects as school. It wouldn't cut into his time that much. As for the address changes, he'd already told Yassen and Sarov…could probably find him, if Alex was being honest. Alex was almost curious to see whether he did. Ian figured since Alex could probably keep up with most college students, the lesson plan was appropriate. Also, Ian was going to spend more time on his hand-to-hand, which would include Alex's morning workout. "When do we leave?"

Ian shrugged. _"In a two days. Work on your Mexican accent until then. With me, your lessons will be in Spanish for the week, minus when you are learning your other languages."_

Ah, well, at least it would be interesting.

* * *

Ian Rider knew it was wrong to search Alex's closet space while he was walking Fenrir, but he was curious and worried for his safety. Ian carefully removed the hollowed section of the wall, no need to let Alex know he'd been here. He opened the case he recognized from the basement. The first and second drawers were entirely full of books. Ian picked up one of the ones on explosives. And turned to the first page. Alex had annotated it. The notes ranged from pure snark to helpful shortcuts. Ian chuckled at a few of them in the first couple of chapter before replacing the book exactly where he'd found it. The poison book was next. What? He wanted to know what Alex had to say. Next to the passage on the ones that discussed the best ways to send someone into cardiac arrest and the CIA. His favorite note of all time appeared:

_The number (of poisonings) is actually closer to a few hundred than fifty. Confirmed, maybe? At this rate the CIA should just change its motto to: A heart attack can happen anytime, anywhere._

Ian actually laughed at that one before closing the book and moving on. He found the notes in the same place they were last time, along with a new addition to beautifully written cursive. It was from Sarov, because, of course, Alex would keep something like this to himself. At this rate, Ian figured he should just lock Alex in the basement if he wanted him to be safe. Except with Ian's luck, Alex would find a new way out of there. Ian decided to check Alex's stashes in the basement. Ian knew he kept the actually dangerous stuff down there. Ian easily found the explosives and poison. The new gun and knife were only slightly harder. Ian decided not to ask where Alex had gotten them. He was sure he really didn't want to know. He felt like he hadn't found everything, but with the door opening and the sound of Alex entering the house, his time was up.

* * *

Alex felt pretty good about the past few days, even though his lesson were back to being really challenging. It was better than being bored. He knew Ian was probably going to break into his stuff sooner or later. He made Sarov's letter easy to find, in hopes that Ian would think that was it. If Ian found Yassen's phone on him or his stuff, it wouldn't be pretty. Ian was a good teacher, but Alex suspected it was only because they were related. From the few interactions Ian had with other agents in front of him, Alex figured Ian wouldn't have the patience to teach anybody else. He and Yassen really did have a lot in common, it was a shame they couldn't get along. Alex heard chuckling in the back of his head. _Oh, they could._

And how would that be, Grim? _If their precious kiddie got kidnapped, hmm?_

Hell, no, I am not getting kidnapped by a drug cartel. It should _at least_ be terrorists. _Snort. Fine, we can leave that for later then. Or you can cook up your own little scheme. Heaven help you if they find out though._

Wouldn't that be your job, Grim? _Don't tempt me, Lexi. I might have to send you through time again. Wouldn't want to end up as an actual ninja assassin, now would you?_

I thought you said you were in trouble because of this. _Such concern, Lex-Lex, I might think you cared. But yes, I'm in trouble, as in, who gives a shit if I get in more, trouble. Besides, it could be fun._

Didn't they die a lot? _I believe I've proven I can bring you back._

Don't you have paperwork to fill out? Alex fires back, a little too innocently. _Yes, pest, I do. Have fun on your field trip._

Err, thanks. Is that a warning? _You're smart enough to figure that out on your own Lexi. By the way, check the packages on your way in. You'll find something interesting._

True to Death's word, there were two packages addressed to 'Firecracker, Young' on the doorstep. Alex managed to turn his snort into a cough. Tara really did have a crooked sense of humor. He gave Fenrir the packages.

"Take these to my room while I talk to Ian, OK?" The wolf let out a little woof that Alex took to mean yes. Thankfully, Ian wasn't in the doorway. Alex made a mental note to burn the evidence as soon as possible.

* * *

Alex locked the door behind him as Fenrir raced up the stairs and opened his door with a massive paw. Alex wasn't even surprised. He was _supposed_ to be really smart. Alex was surprised that the dog managed to figure out he wanted the packages under the bed, where Ian wouldn't immediately see them and closing the door, once he'd hidden them. Alex shrugged. He knew his fur ball was epic. Ian came into the kitchen a minute later. Alex figured he'd been in the basement. Jack, Tom, and Jerry weren't due for another hour (traffic was bad today).

Ian raised an eyebrow. "That wolf really likes your room."

Alex snorted. "So do you."

Ian rolled his eyes. "That walk was much shorter."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You notice I'm completely dry, right."

Ian smirked. "And not conspiring with sociopathic black-ops mercenaries to blow up the jointly owned property of the CIA and MI6. Nice try, Alex, but I found park footage of you two walking together yesterday. Don't worry, it _is_ erased now. _Congratulations!_ You are the youngest person to make my guilty until proven innocent list, _ever_ , in fact." Well, shit. Ian smirked. It really hadn't been that hard to find. Luckily, he wasn't green enough to report _all_ his findings to Jones.

"It was an empty parking lot."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Above ground, yes."

Alex was almost scared. "What was underneath?"

Ian gave him the: _I'm about to start watching you shower_ look. "A thankfully bomb-proof joint training base." Oops. "My going theory is that they were paid to test the defenses of the base either knowingly or not." Double shit. "Do I need to have you surveilled or are you going to _start telling me these things_?"

Alex sighed. It could be worse. "I'll try to let you know before I do something stupid."

Ian gave him a look that seemed as though it belonged on a sabretooth tiger. "I hope so."

Alex breathed a mental sigh of relief. "I'm going to be at the bank tomorrow and the next day to pick up some paperwork. I trust you'll study on your own?"

Alex nodded. "Yes, Ian." Dinner was tense, especially with Jerry and Jack trying their latest approach to convincing Ian to put Alex back into the formal education system. Tom kept his mouth shut. Alex knew better than to argue with Ian once the man made up his mind.

* * *

Alex kept his anticipation for what was in the packages to himself. He didn't want Eagle-eye (cough, Ian, cough) getting even more suspicious. Ian was currently watching him like creepily staring was going out of fashion. Not that he didn't have a point, but Alex was getting decidedly twitchy under his stare, which was resembling his death glare.

Ian smirked. "Guilty conscious?"

Alex was getting snappy. "Screw you."

Alex got the feeling Ian was passive-aggressively getting his revenge. "That would be highly illegal and more than slightly incestual at this point, but you've got good taste at least."

Alex promptly spewed his water and gaped at Ian. Jack looked scandalized and Tom and Jerry were shaking with suppressed laughter.

Jack seemed to recover the ability to speak the English language. "IAN RIDER!" Alex knew that was his cue to bolt and Tom and Jerry quickly followed. The yells of Jack were barely muffled by the door of the living room before the three boys promptly started laughing.

"Your face… _gasp_ … was priceless." Jerry said in between laughs. Alex grinned; it was actually pretty hilarious.

Tom grinned. "We know you two are definitely related."

Alex rolled his eyes. "And you just now figured that out, Tom? No wonder you're almost failing Spanish."

Tom affectionately cuffs him, his eyes sparkling with humor. "Definitely related." The brothers say at the same time.

"Well, Jerry, you know it's time to think about moving out when _that_ happens."

The older boy chuckles ruffles Alex's hair and heads off to his room. Alex was smiling as he wished Tom a goodnight and hugged him, sauntering off to his own room, with Jack still lecturing Ian on age-appropriate jokes at top volume. The lecture would probably last at least another hour, so Alex felt safe opening his packages from Tara, after jamming his door shut (Ian could easily pick locks - Alex remembered that lesson very well). He sliced open his first one. It was a blue phone that Alex recognized as untraceable. It came with a note that Alex would hide in a different spot because of compromising information.

* * *

_Dear Alex,_

_I feel bad about not saying goodbye, but I feel like you already know that it's how the world works sometimes. This phone has both of our numbers just in case. You can use it for other people to. The texts should be pretty safe and the calls are untraceable, so long as you keep 'em under four minutes. I feel like I should have warned you our little jaunt could piss off some real dicks (CIA and MI6), but try not to catch any more heat and you should be fine. We weren't told who or why, but you don't last as long as we do without being able to figure out a few things. Good luck and stay crooked._

_Cheers,_

_Tara_

_P.S. The other package is your share of our payment. It seems fair. Clean, unmarked, non-sequential American dollars. Use the Swiss banks. A big hint you are attacking an agency or any dangerous organization without being directly told is that the price is suspiciously high. $1.5 million, even for a bombing in a civilized country, is too high (for someone of our relative criminal rank)._

* * *

Alex cut open the package and counted. $500, 000. Holy shit. He sincerely hoped no one _ever_ found out about this. They might get charge him with income tax evasion. The train to Switzerland only took a few hours. He could take his 'schoolwork' with him on the train. The Swiss wouldn't ask questions, particularly if he acted like it wasn't his money (rich relatives were a thing). He would be back before anyone noticed if he acted like he left Fenrir's walk until the end of the day. The 'dog' could come with him and who would question a kid with a backpack and a dog? Alex got the train tickets ready on his computer. It would almost be too easy. _Deeeeeeath-y, can I trust this?_

Death snorted. _Yes, pestilence. For criminals, those two are oddly honorable._

Alex shrugged. It never hurt to check. _In this case, I agree, Snoopy. Always check the fine print. Always._

Speaking from experience, Grim? _Yes, brat. Now sleep, as much I as enjoy plotting with you, you are still mortal._

Alex rolled his eyes. You would think Death would be less … Human? Alex wasn't sure what he expected, but this definitely wasn't it. The primordial was surprisingly helpful, considering all the stories he read about mythological beings. Most of Death in it were remarkably tragic. If Death was the Death, then were there others? He mentioned fate and his 'co-workers', so Alex supposed there were others. Alex wondered vaguely if he would even make it to eleven. Shit seemed to have hit the fan as it was. Then again, there wasn't anything truly life-threatening that had come his way yet. Strictly speaking, his life wasn't in danger. Ian was, with his missions. Jack, Tom, and Jerry hadn't been attacked. Nobody had died in the stunts he'd pulled (minus one terrorist-dude, but who cared about him?). Alex began to clean his recovered knife; it didn't really need it, but it was soothing. He slept surprisingly well that night.

* * *

It was almost too easy to pull off. Alex got on the train and was careful to make sure he wasn't surveilled. He left the phone Ian had given him at home, knowing the man could track him with it. He wondered what his uncle would do if he came home with another untraceable phone and proposed it be his new one. Probably go ballistic. Ah well, it would probably be a few years until he got off Ian's shit list. Alex was now the proud new owner of Alec Pierre's new bank account. The bank hadn't even required a real name, just that he remember his ID number, a password, and bio-metric information. The employees hadn't batted an eyelid. He suspected he wasn't the first odd customer they had. Alex had almost enjoyed his day trip and even gone for a bit of shopping on his way back. It was chocolate for everyone. Jack probably needed it and well, chocolate made everything better, right? Alex got back before Ian and the rest. The ten-year-old had decided not to mention this to Yassen. Something told him it wouldn't be a good idea. Now, time for his personal projects. He'd done the schoolwork early, so he'd have time. Smithers should have replied by now. Alex had even started his anonymous email account and set them to go off in a few years with enough time for the intelligence agencies of the world to intervene (he held off on Sarov's and Invisible Sword for now) if they chose to. If it came down to it, he could preemptively assassinate them. A small part of Alex balked at the idea. Another part knew that he wasn't going to let anything bad happen. There were quite a few variables to consider, as well. Ian got home last after dinner was over. Alex had expected it, after all, he knew how long briefings and reading files took. Ian looked at his chocolate bar, looked at Alex, and gave him one of the most intense quizzes of his life (Alex got it all right, he had done the work, just not at home).

Then he sat down and shrugged. "I won't begrudge you the occasional day off Alex."

Alex sighed. "I didn't want to ask for one so soon after the break. Besides, how did you know I went to Switzerland?"

Ian smiled wryly. "This brand of chocolate can only be bought there, in a particular shop. Your father got it for me on quite a few of his trips." Well, damn. How was he supposed to know that? "This exact bar, in fact."

Alex groaned. "I was trying to be nice."

Ian gave him a soft, warm smile. "Thank you, Alex."

Alex was confused. He wasn't in trouble? Ian was weird sometimes. Ian felt a wave of nostalgia after opening his chocolate. It was like John had come back, after all these years. _You and your chocolate, Ian. I could buy you something else._ No, John, he liked this very much. _You remind me of Helen and her cravings, sometimes. If you're sure…_ He'd swear Alex was channeling the man sometimes. And other days, he cursed his brother's decision to even think about reproducing. It tasted exactly like he remembered it. He hadn't had a bar since John's funeral. It hadn't felt right and he could hardly justify a trip to Switzerland just for a specific kind of chocolate he liked. Jones would have a fit. Crawley would just give him a look that suggested he belonged in an asylum. Blunt would just suggest a month in solitary. That seemed to be his solution for most things, anyway. Punch a diplomat? Month in solitary. Prank war that gets him by accident? Month in solitary (he pitied that intern). Break your cover on purpose? Month in solitary. Ian himself had been threatened with it a couple times. He enjoyed the memory snippets of him and John before SCORPIA as they came by. For the first time in a few years, he felt like he was going to sleep well. He vaguely wondered what Crawley was up to. Or if his boss was going to bother with security this time around. Jones and Blunt said they watched his nephew, but he felt like they might slack on the job if it suited their purposes. Then again, they did have a country to look after. He hoped they put Crawley on it. Alex would be devastated if anything happened to his friends or that shaggy wolf. The papers for Alex were drawn up. Ian Reiter and his son Alex Reiter were going on holiday to Mexico.

* * *

Jerry was puzzled by the Rider family dynamics. They seemed to be an ever-shifting pool of who was in charge. Some days it was Jack, others it was clearly Ian, and there were days Jerry would swear Alex was in charge, except he wasn't. Jerry figured Alex had done something to get them out of that house, but it couldn't possibly have been legal. Court hearings took time and evidence and witnesses and money (not that Ian Rider didn't have enough of it). Whatever it had been, Jerry was very grateful. His plan was to stay here until he finished school and get a house far away from here. He already had a job and some money. It was enough for a good start in a country far away from England. Tom, he would leave with the same parting advice a friend had given him, get a job and start saving. Alex wouldn't kick them out, but he wasn't sure about the kid's uncle. Something seemed off about that guy. Really, who withdrew their kid from school only a week after they got back from holiday? Also, who did it to home-school their kid on business trips? The man seemed very fit for a banker, to (not that there was anything wrong with that). The housekeeper seemed more family than staff and it was very clear that she had done most of the work raising Alex the past few years. Why would that have changed? Then there was the fact that no asked any questions in the house. Alex went missing and came back (presumably Ian found him), but no one brings it up? Then, the fact that they let two kids move in indefinitely no questions asked (the house had more than enough room, but still…). Also, what kind of caring relative half-assed raising their kid like that? The man seemed to care about Alex...when he was there. From what Tom told him, Ian Rider had a habit of disappearing for days on end. Oh, well. Jerry knew enough to leave it alone, but he kind of worried about what it had done to Alex, especially when he was a younger kid. I mean his parents were clearly shit, but what did that make the uncle? Bad at parenting?

* * *

Tom knew enough to not ask questions. Alex didn't talk about his unusual home situation, but it clearly wasn't easy. At least no one here got hit and the screaming seemed to only happen for a good reason. Even Tom had to admit that joke was a bit raunchy for an adult with ten-year-olds in the room. Most would have at least tried to mind their language. Ian Rider hadn't set much in terms of rules, at any rate. Nobody had to do outrageous amounts of chores and the guy seemed decent enough, if a bit closed-mouthed. Maybe that was where Alex had gotten it from? There was always food on the table or packed for lunch. Jack payed attention to everybody's day-to-day needs and asked how school went. Ian seemed to make the money and...Keep Alex in line-ish? He was polite at the very least, but Tom got the feeling the man was both stubborn and dangerous when he wanted to be. Ian Rider seemed just a little too quiet and a little too absent to be anything else. Of course, that could be where Alex got it from. Secret family of ninjas maybe? Those two had to do something cool in their super-secret lessons Alex insisted were just harder versions of school. I mean come on, who talked about biology or whatever for a whole day? Plus, where else would Alex learn his magic voodoo powers from. School definitely wasn't it and he was pretty sure disappearing wasn't part of taekwondo lessons. Seriously, _nobody_ walked that quiet. It was like watching a panther. A friendly panther that helped him with homework and scared off the school bullies. Well, he knew better than to ask. Alex was strangely quiet when the strangeness of his uncle came up. On the other hand, weird was better than whatever his parents were. Wrong? Horrible? He was glad the fire had happened. It was way better than the alternative and he figured his parents would just leave him here and argue about whose fault it was. Alex was the best friend ever.

* * *

Jack Starbright let out an inelegant huff as she finished the last of the dishes. While Ian Rider was within his rights to home-school Alex as he saw fit...she was worried. When she had come to the house just over three years ago, she'd found a seven-year-old that was remarkably self-sufficient and remarkably lonely. Alex had seemed almost desperate for any kind of approval, but now he seemed...different, haunted. She blamed Ian Rider for that. That and what she called the Rider family stubbornness. And maybe that assassin guy who kept putting dead bodies in front of Alex. Yeah dude, that _wasn't_ creepy _at all_. What was that the assassin version of Merry Christmas, I got you a present? Charming. Not. She would be petrified if she was Alex. At least he had the dog and his friends now. From what she gathered their home situation was best avoided and she was more than happy to take care of those two for as long as necessary. Now she worried that Ian Rider would undo all of her work in making Alex relax and have an actual childhood. That man had almost unreasonably high standards. Then Alex met them. It was totally unfair to him that he would have to keep up with that amount of knowledge. She'd seen the test results. Dear god, what had he done to make Alex learn all that this quickly? It wasn't natural. Alex had the study habits of a college student and the trouble magnet habits of...she wasn't really sure. None of the books she'd read or people she knew had to deal with the things Alex did. There weren't any books on how to stay safe from your childhood stalker assassin (she sincerely hoped not, anyway). There weren't any resources on how to help your kid go back to having a fun childhood and stop being at the university level. Alex refused to talk to mental health professionals. Jack was just worried he would burn out or something. She sighed and decided to talk to him about it when she got the chance. They were leaving soon, weren't they?

* * *

When Alex started packing, Fenrir tried to jump in the suitcase and dug his claws in. "Damn it, fur ball, I don't want to leave you behind."

The wolf was now giving him pathetic puppy eyes. "It's really hot in Mexico?" He tried. "You can sleep with me tonight?" The 'dog' sat adamantly in his suitcase. "Fenrir…"

Ian was snorting in the doorway. "It's not that funny."

Ian smirked. "It really is."

Alex glared half-heartedly at Ian. "Why aren't you helping?"

Ian was still wearing a positively shit-eating grin. "Your mutant, your problem. Besides, this is way too much fun to watch."

Alex rolled his eyes and went for one of the other suitcases. It was promptly ripped out of his grip by a massive wolf paw. Alex glared at his pet. "Really, dog, really?" Ian was cracking up in the doorway.

Alex scowled at his uncle. "Your face'll get stuck like that, you know."

Alex scowled even harder, checked that Ian was clear of the doorway, and promptly slammed the door shut. The door didn't quite muffle Ian's snorts as he went back to pack his own suitcase. Fenrir was stubbornly sitting on both suitcases. "What do you want?" The wolf walked up and sniffed him, before pouncing on him. Alex was promptly pinned by his wolf. The luminous yellow eyes stared into his own brown ones. His pet promptly rolled him over before nipping him on the neck and rubbing his mouth on the sides of his neck. Right, he had extra scent glands in his mouth, like a cat. The wolf eased off of him. "Satisfied furball?" The wolf harrumphed and looked very self-satisfied. "Yeah, yeah, you're the only pet for me. Can I pack now?" The wolf huffed before plopping itself on his bed. Alex wondered if Fenrir was going to find a way to track him to Mexico. That would be fun to explain to Ian. _No, Ian, I didn't have him smuggled illegally into the country. He followed me, I swear._

* * *

Jack watched Alex pack with a wince. She would miss him. The shaggy carpet he called a dog had put up quite a fight. Jack may have accidentally let it slip that Alex was leaving without him. Oops. That little scene had been hilarious. And she'd never seen a dog who could move that fast before either. The poor dog would probably get lonely. Plus, it only ate raw meat. Spoiled, overgrown rat. She was pretty sure it ate better than most humans. Not to mention, it got to snuggle with Alex. Being jealous of a dog was pretty pathetic, but Jack had realized she wasn't above it. Oh well, it would pass. "Alex, may I come in?"

Alex opened the door and smiled. "Sure, Jack." The furry rat was on his bed, again. Watching him pack and look pathetically mournful.

It turned its large pleading eyes on her. "Sorry, furball, not my decision. You'll have to try Ian."

Alex grinned. "Isn't he adorable?"

Jack snorted. "Sure."

Alex gave her a wan smile. "Relax, he's a big softie. You could probably pet him if you wanted."

Jack sat on the bed and experimentally stroked the dog. It really was soft. It eyed her warily but seemed to realize that it was what Alex wanted. "Alex...are you sure you're OK with this?"

Alex sighed and placed the last shirt in his suitcase. "I'll be fine, Jack."

Jack motioned for him to sit down next to her. "If you say so, Alex. Just remember, you have a home here, with us."

She ran her hands through his hair. "I'll miss you, Jack."

Jack hugged him. "I'll miss you too, trouble. Be careful with those Mexicans, huh?"

Alex gave her a look. "I'll try." There was a long pause where the two of them sat together, doing nothing. "Um, you can stay… if you want, I mean."

Jack smiled. Why not? "I do." The three of them slept so intertwined you couldn't tell who was who.

* * *

When Ian got up at three in the morning to wake Alex (Tulip had gotten him a flight a five o'clock in the frickin' mourning, he suspected revenge on her part- there were two other perfectly good flights he could have taken that were at nicer times), he was surprised to find Jack, the wolf, and his nephew in the same bed. Fortunately, no one was there to see his surprise. Ian took a moment to regain his composure before gently waking Alex, who silently untangled himself. The wolf was up to and Jack sighed before rolling over and going back to sleep. The 'dog' gave him the evil eye before it joined Jack back in bed. Alex shook his head sleepily before becoming completely conscious. He grabbed his bag and went downstairs. From the trips before that were this early, Alex knew they would get breakfast at the airport. Ian and he crept silently down the stairs. The shadows seemed to flicker around the two of them, as they both stepped into them. Ian and Alex moved completely silently through the entire house. They avoided all the creaky steps and Ian silently locked the door. Alex felt like he'd passed some kind of test. Ian shot him a reassuring grin, but Alex couldn't help the ominous feeling that washed over him. Nothing good ever came of following the whims of Alan Blunt. Nonetheless, he followed Ian into the car, through the airport, and onto the plane. He watched the sunrise from his plane window. It was one of the few non-cloudy days and the sunrise was truly beautiful. The airport had been eerily quiet and empty. The plane was very quiet, too. The people didn't seem to be quite up yet, not that Alex could blame them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Nebraska is landlocked.


	25. Mexico

Antonio Rodriguez was not a nice man. He did, after all, run a cartel. Successfully, in fact. Very successfully. There was nothing in the world he valued more than his profits, except for his son. Yes, he had been an accident, but even then he'd always wanted a son of some sort. Miguel was not the hardiest of children, but he supposed he could live with that, so long as his son kept at his schooling and followed in his footsteps. The boy had been taken from his mother as soon as Antonio had found out he was the father. No need for his son to be infected with some sort of misguided sentiment. Business was going so well, the foreign powers had approached him directly. That and the fact that he'd had their last couple of agents shipped back to them in coffins. They had decided the direct approach would work better and both MI6 and the CIA had decided to send ambassadors of sorts to work with him and each other. Joe Byrne and Ian Rider. Their real names. They were going by Joe Brown and Ian Reiter and he'd decide to try to look into them. Highly skilled, supposedly. He'd play nice for now, since they seemed to be. His sources had told him that Rider was bringing a kid of some sort, but not whether they were actually related or not. It was useful to know. Perhaps Miguel might have a playmate, for once. He didn't let anyone else near his son, but a kid that an agent carried around was bound to be at least somewhat useful. With any luck, this 'Alex' was made of sterner stuff than his son. He personally doubted that it was the kid's real name. Well, they would see. He could always have the lot of them shot if it didn't work out. In the meantime, well, he was intrigued. What could he say? Most agents wouldn't drag a kid around if their life depended on it.

* * *

Joe Byrne was wary. He knew full well he was expected to solidly secure an alliance with a shady drug dealer he'd much rather shoot in the head. They didn't pay him to have job preferences, though. Agent Ian Rider was also an unknown. Byrne had read the file, of course, but there were a lot of things a file didn't mention. He was waiting at the meeting point. Agent Rider was supposed to arrive this afternoon. He tapped the desk impatiently, waiting for the call that would indicate they had landed safely. Sure enough, the phone rang.

* * *

"Joe Brown."

* * *

He was sure the man knew his real name and had his file memorized. There were appearances to be upheld, though.

* * *

"Ian Reiter."

* * *

Joe Byrne was the deputy head of the CIA. Ian would find a way to get him to keep quiet about Alex. Ian had his file. Ian was building a blackmail file, just in case.

* * *

"How was the flight, Ian?'

* * *

Pleasantries. Joe was impatient, but he knew better than to let it show.

* * *

"Good. I hope yours was as well. I should be there in half an hour."

* * *

Joe hung up, without a goodbye. Ian wasn't surprised. The Americans had a reputation for being brief and having no sense of humor. "Who was that?" Ian looked casual, but there was an underlying tension in his shoulders that Alex didn't recognize.

"My American partner for this business negotiation." The English had a German accent.

Alex's reply did as well. "Is he nice?"

Ian raised an eyebrow. "We shall see."

Alex had hastily memorized his new identity details as part of his 'extracurricular' work. Ian had seemed vaguely impressed with the speed. The car trip was a thorough quiz on every single detail he was supposed to know. In German and English. Ian even threw in a few questions in languages he wasn't supposed to know. Alex made sure to stare blankly. After a while, his uncle seemed satisfied.

"Good job, Alex." Alex felt a faint glow of pride.

Ian opened the door to the apartment he would be sharing with Byrne for the next few days. Luckily, it just happened to have a third bedroom. Byrne walked up, took one look at Alex His eyes widened and he shut the door behind them.

"What. The. Fuck. He's a fucking kid!" Alex could barely hold back a chuckle.

" _Alex, go to the third bedroom on the right and unpack."_ Alex disappeared into the room to unpack.

"First of all, I understand German, you limey bastard! Second of all, nobody mentioned there was a kid! Don't you have nannies in England?!" Alex was shaking with silent laughter as he finished unpacking and texted Cossack while waiting until Ian called him back out.

It was almost too good. Alex was well over the fact that agents would be outright offended at his age.

The argument continued. "You should at least let him know what is going on!"

Ian sighed (the walls were very thin). " _Alex, come out now"._

* * *

"So, uh, we're here to-"

Alex finished his uncle's sentence. "Negotiate with a drug dealer. I picked the lock on your briefcase and read your files on the plane after you went to sleep. You should really get a new lock for that thing, maybe biometric this time?"

Ian snorted. "It wouldn't stop you, would it?"

Alex shrugged at Byrne's stare. "Not really, but unauthorized blood samples are harder to get."

Ian grinned. "See, he can take care of himself."

Alex rolled his eyes and muttered. "I wouldn't go that far."

Byrne just continued staring. "You- You-"

Alex sighed. "Deep breathe. Complete sentences, yes?"

To his surprise, the man just sighed. "You're insufferable."

Alex grinned. "I thought you Americans invented insufferable."

Byrne seemed to relax at that. "No, it was definitely some German brat or the Russians."

Alex's lips twitched. "I heard you Americans blame them for everything."

Byrne shoots Ian an indigent look. "What kind of crock have you been teaching this kid?"

Ian's eyes dance with mirth. "The accurate kind."

Byrne snorts. "Bullshit. If I was younger and not at my current rank, I'd fight you."

Alex snorts into his cereal, which he was currently eating for dinner/lunch. Joe seemed livelier, at least. Not as old, not as defeated, and probably not weirded out by a fourteen-year-old agent. The CIA man hovered for a few more minutes before shrugging and sitting down next to Alex with his own bowl of cereal. They were quickly joined by Ian. A question seems to occur to Byrne.

"We're not taking him are we?"

Ian looked outraged at the thought. " _Absolutely_ not. Alex?"

Alex did his best to the eye roll to himself. "I'll be in my room, not attracting trouble, and doing my assigned work."

Ian looked satisfied, so he kept his mouth shut. Alex decided it was time for a nap.

* * *

The two adults watched the kid disappear into his room before talking further.

"I know better than to ask, but I thought taking your kid to work was against MI6 policy."

Ian shrugged. "Probably. I didn't actually check, you know."

Byrne was concealing his urge to strangle the man for bringing the poor adorable ten?-year-old into this.

"What if we die? What if he gets kidnapped?"

Ian sighed. "Alex could get out of here. As for kidnapping, I _dare_ them."

Byrne saw something in the guy's eyes that made him not want to argue too hard about this. "Okay, shouldn't he be in school?"

Ian gave Byrne the evil eye. "Not that it's any of your business, but I'm homeschooling him."

Byrne decided it was better for his mental and physical health to focus on the mission. "How old is he anyway?

Rider sighed. "Almost eleven. Can you focus on your actual job now?"

Byrne huffed but got on with it. At least negotiation was Ian Rider's specialty. That was about the only positive thought Joe had about the man. Who the hell brought anyone they actually cared about into this? Everybody knew not to. Kids weren't allowed on missions for a reason. They were clearly related. Byrne wasn't sure how. He rechecked his file. Nephew, right, that was probably it. The thing was the file clearly said the nephew was left in England for missions. What changed? Byrne made a mental note to update the file. Ian unpacked later on in the evening. He'd brought out dye for him and Alex. The stuff smelled absolutely horrendous, but it was effective. They both had temporarily dark brown hair (his natural shade was lighter). Alex had taken surprisingly little convincing. Normally, he was more reluctant to do anything involving changing his hair color. Byrne had raised an eyebrow at his colleague's obvious paranoia but hadn't said anything. The next thing he got out was Alex's textbooks.

He flicked open the ones on Dari and Pashto. "Start with these. We'll be doing small sentences by the end of the week."

Alex groaned. A completely new alphabet awaited him.

* * *

Tulip Jones watched the airport footage. And re-watched the airport footage. Then she cursed Ian Rider to the ninth circle of hell he belonged in. Crawley just watched her and waited.

"What could he have been _thinking_?"

Crawley shrugged. He wondered why she thought he knew. "I have absolute faith in Agent Rider's judgment ma'am."

Jones glared at him. "I don't want the party line, Crawley. I want answers." Crawley mentally withheld a sigh.

Blunt arrived in the office a minute later. "Alan, what is going on?"

Blunt didn't react. "It seems Agent Rider decided to violate agency policy and bring his nephew on the mission."

Jones looked furious. "We created that policy specifically because Alex was almost kidnapped! What if he dies? What if _Alex_ dies? He's ten, Alan!"

Blunt didn't react. "Alex Rider has proven to have extraordinary luck already. We can only hope the combined skills of Joe Byrne and Agent Rider are up for the job. Besides, I'm sure the trip will be educational for young Alex. Homeschooling, isn't it?"

Jones resisted the urge to hiss. It was undignified. "That doesn't answer my question."

Blunt shrugged. "I'm sure the SAS is more than up for a little rescue mission if something goes horribly wrong."

Jones sighed. "That isn't very reassuring, Alan."

Blunt didn't visibly react. "I'm not paid to be reassuring."

With that, he exited. Crawley wondered how that man passed the diplomacy requirement sometimes. He didn't dare ask, but he thought blackmail might have something to do with it. Maybe Jones would indulge him? "How _did_ he pass the diplomacy requirement?"

Jones snorted. "Nobody knows, but he is the first and only person to ever receive full credit for the class."

Crawley grinned. "You think we could find out? Say, whoever gets it first buys lunch?"

Jones raised an eyebrow. "Buys lunch for the week."

Crawley smirked. She must really be irritated. "Deal."

* * *

Alex was stuck in the apartment a lot. He occasionally went out but needed to study for the most part. The day was particularly hot when he glared at the textbook. The written components of both languages looked like incomprehensible squiggles. He threw the book at the wall just as Byrne walked in (thankfully without Ian). "Textbook abuse!" Alex picked up his other textbook and nailed Byrne in the shoulder. "Dude, really?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm hot and grumpy and it looks like a bunch of indistinguishable squiggles."

Byrne picked up the books. "Pashto and Dari, huh? I'd have chucked the books in the first hour at your age, kid. Want some help?"

Alex wasn't even surprised the man knew the languages. "Won't it, like, blow your cover?"

Byrne smirked. "Wanna know a secret, kid?" Alex shrugged. This was better than what he had been doing. "Nobody but the civies and the lower-levels are buying our cover. The dealer knows who we are and we all have files on each other."

Alex thought that was rather elaborate. "Why bother, then?"

Byrne shrugged. "Lower-levels remember. Also, keeps Interpol off everybody's asses if things go south."

Byrne put the books on the table. "Let's go for a walk, kid. You can probably afford a break. I'll help you after."

He'd mentored plenty of unrulier, surlier, former drunkards into respectable members of the intelligence community. How hard could one kid possibly be? The kid was surprisingly quiet. Byrne still wasn't sure English was his first language. The accent was really good. The two walked for a while, not saying anything. Joe wasn't too worried. After all, what did an old American man and one maybe-British kid have in common? At least he kept up. Hey, it was better shape than some of the people he'd had to work with, back in the early days of the CIA. If the kid was a little older, he might have even gone for a recruitment spiel. As it was, well it felt a bit like cradle-robbing - literally. Not that Byrne had stolen babies personally. That was the height of what was reserved for sicko-land.

* * *

Alex (if that was his real name) froze for a second. "Duck, now!"

Byrne hit the deck on instinct with the kid (better safe than sorry). The shots rang out in the square. The kid looked furious (but still kept the accent).

"One fucking trip without gunshots! One! That's all I ever asked for!" Byrne flinched as the kid drew a gun.

"Easy, kid." Alex fired in the general direction of the shots. He was frustrated. Byrne looked torn between concern and shock. "Return fire! Are you kidding me?!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You didn't think Ian dragged around just any kid, did you? Are you helping or not?!"

Byrne decided his questions could wait and drew his own firearm. The shots came from a third? Fourth? Direction. The newer gunman systematically shot their enemies. Alex turned to thank him. It was Ian. Well, shit. Ian sent the most scorching look in his repertoire to Joe Byrne. "The only reason you two aren't dead right now is that our darling drug dealer warned me of an attack by his rivals. Next time, we all go out together or not at all." Alex sighed. At least he wasn't injured. On second thought… His leg began throbbing on the way back to the apartment. He checked his leg just to be sure. Oh, joy. A jagged rusty piece of metal that had thankfully missed everything critical. His tetanus was up to date and recent because of his last unfortunate injury. "Scheisse!"

Ian shot him a look. "Language!"

Alex gave him his most innocent look. "But I'm injured!"

Ian sighed and looked at his leg. "Scheisse!"

Byrne shot him an amused look. "Gee, I wonder where he learned that one."

Ian shot him a venomous look. "Shut up and get the first aid kit."

Byrne walked off. "At least you've had a tetanus booster recently. That would've been a pain to get."

Alex sighed. "Lucky me."

Ian gave him a wry look. "Least I got you off the French swears."

Alex snorted. "Gee, wonder where I learned all those." Ian cuffed him.

* * *

Byrne chuckled to himself as he watched the pair from the corner. He'd first doubted the man actually cared for the boy, but now…the care was mutual. It was one of the few times he saw any kind of affection in the field involving an agent. It was actually kind of sweet. This was a good time as any to walk in with the first-aid kit. Rider took and began to systematically treat the kid's leg. "How'd the negotiations go?"

Ian was back to being expressionless. "Well. We should be done in a few days. For some reason, the man was remarkably amenable."

Byrne felt a stab of alarm. "You think this was a test?"

Ian had pulled the piece of metal out and was now sterilizing the wound. "Could be. I don't think we'll know for sure. At any rate, we'll be done in a few days and have enough time for a vacation of sorts."

Ian looked down at Alex as he began the stitches. "No running with this, yeah?"

Alex sighed. Bloody wonderful. "Sure."

Byrne shots him an almost pitying look. Ian heads back out. "Where are you going?"

Ian sighed. "Restocking the kit, Alex." As much as it hurt, Ian knew he couldn't act like he cared with Byrne around. Ian didn't trust him that much. He sent Alex a silent look that begged him to understand when Byrne turned around to go to the kitchen. Alex sighed at his uncle's look, but he knew what the man was trying to convey. Honestly, he knew where Ian was coming from, but as far as he knew Joe was alright. Then again, Alex wouldn't trust him that much either. With his life, yes. With his secrets? Not so much. The man was or would be deputy director of the CIA for a reason. He zoned out for a few minutes. Joe (unbeknownst to Alex) was staring at him from the kitchen.

* * *

_Directors of intelligence agencies aren't girl scouts._

Yes, thank you, _Yassen_ , also Deputy Director. _Grouchy today, aren't we?_

I just got a bloody piece of metal pulled from my leg, Death. _Aww, poor baby Alex._

I _will_ murder you. _I'd like to see you try, Lexi. It would be fun, for me at least. You? Not so much._

Is _everyone_ better than me at fighting? _There might be a few nine-year-olds you could beat up. Sorry, short stack. You're better than them at conning, though._

Such a wonderful, comforting thought. I'm sure I'll sleep _fantastic_. Death gave the mental equivalent of a snort. _Oh, but Death is a cold comfort, not a warm fluffy one, dearest. Everyone knows that._

Alex gave him a mental eye roll. _You're such a teenager, Lexi, except when you're not._

I miss you and your shady deals too, Grim. Alex sent back sarcastically. _Tech, tech. You still haven't grown out of your mouth, Mr. almost mentally seventeen._

I'm also physically ten, you ass. _You're almost eleven._

Oh goody, I now get a few more years until I'm fourteen. _Your plotting is improving._

It needed to. Alex Rider from before didn't make the cut. _Hold on to that thought. Now, I have paperwork to get back to, since you aren't dying. Try not to die, pestilence._

Screw you, Grim.

Joe Byrne dropped a blanket on him and handed him a cup of tea. Alex made the mistake of taking a sip without checking it first and barely kept from spitting it out. "This tea is terrible, Mr. Brown."

The man just snorted. "And you're back. I was wondering. For the love of God, call me Joe. We've been shot at together."

Alex couldn't resist the bait. "Yes, Joe, it's just a _wonderful_ bonding opportunity. We should _definitely_ do it again."

Joe kept his face in a deadpan. "Well, in that case, I know a few poor districts of Mexico we should visit, especially the areas where tourists are told not to go."

Alex played along. "Oh, but Joe, think of the paperwork."

The man felt his lips twitch. "The horror. I don't know how I would go on without it."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, especially for toilet paper." Joe actually laughed. The director would murder him.

* * *

Long after the tea went cold, Ian Rider was still not back. Joe was actually kind of angry at the man's obvious lack of child raising skills. It was made even worse when he'd found Alex making them dinner (He'd decided to shower since Mexican streets weren't the cleanest). "You can cook?" Alex shrugged.

"Can't everybody?"

Joe sighed. "I wish. You wouldn't believe how many people I've met who would need help boiling water."

Alex shook his head. "Stupid. It's a basic life skill."

Byrne decided it wasn't his business, but… He wouldn't be surprised if whatever social services Britain had ended up finding something amiss in that house of theirs. Byrne couldn't really do anything without causing an international incident. He was left feeling entirely uncomfortable with the situation, but unable to do anything about it. "So what are you doing with your Pashto and Dari lessons?" That was something he could help with, at least. He hated feeling this powerless.

"The beginning really, I just started this week."

Joe shrugged and picked up the books. "It probably hasn't changed much from back when I learned the languages. First things first, I had a few tricks to learn the alphabets…"

Alex felt a lot less frustrated when he went to sleep that night. Joe was actually decent at teaching and more patient than Ian or Yassen if Alex was being honest. He wondered why he was thinking about Yassen so much today. It might have something to do with the fact that Yassen had informed him of Rothman's 'unfortunate' death because of 'unknown assassins'. He also spent a bit of time sky-watching. He missed Fenrir and Jack. Wondering what those two were up to had been a constant at the back of his mind and did not help his irritability at all. He watched the stars, since there was less light pollution in this area, compared with London, anyway. Alex sighed as he drummed his fingers on the windowsill and decided he should probably go to bed now.

* * *

Jack Starbright was faced with an empty house. Well, not really empty. She had Tom, Jerry, and a sulky dog to deal with. Seriously, anyone who doubted animals had feelings was welcome to come to their house and try to cheer up Alex's monstrosity. She didn't even know dogs could sulk that much. It had also taken to sleeping in her room at night, which was kind of funny. Jack sighed as she warmed up the meat in the microwave for the massive fur ball. "Alex better be grateful. I went to a shady shop in a shady part of town to get food for his shadily acquired dog." The wolf let out a little whine as Alex was mentioned. Jack sighed. "I miss him too, mutant." The wolf followed her around now.

Jerry rolled his eyes. "Honestly, it's like having a little kid."

Jack snorted. "I wouldn't say that."

Tom grinned. "But then you and Alex would be the parents."

Jack laughed. "Eww. I've been raising him since he was seven."

Tom shrugged. "Fourteen years isn't that much difference. Besides you're pretty."

Jack just gagged and laughed at the mental image. Alex was like her little brother. A tiny trouble magnet to look after. Besides, between both of their genes, she highly doubted they'd ever have a moments' peace. It was just as bad as anybody thinking about her and Ian as a couple. Their age difference was much wider than people would assume, as well. Plus, she usually liked younger men, though she'd dated a few older ones. At any rate, the dog and Tom were shooting her pitiable looks as she made dinner. "It's not that long, guys. And no, Fenrir, Alex is the only one who feeds you table scraps." The dog gave her one last puppy-eyed look before settling on the couch. Jack saw Tom slip the mutt a few bites when he thought she wasn't looking.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was pleased with the way events had turned out. Julia Rothman had been surprisingly easy to take out. Then again, she'd always been extremely overconfident. Nile was now being fought over by certain members of the executive board. Yassen figured he was smart enough to stay out of their squabbles and live with whomever he got stuck with (cough, had the honor of serving, cough). Oh well, it was not his concern. Three had summoned him to his office at his earliest convenience, which really meat whenever he got back to Malagosto. He figured he was useful enough not to execute, so was not very concerned about the meeting. He walked across the island with his usual grace. The students instinctively stayed out of his way. Nile was there, to his mild surprise. The man hovered nervously toward him. "Yes?"

Nile sighed. "You're about as approachable as a glacier, you know that right?"

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "I am not paid for my _approachability_ , Nile."

Nile flinched ever so slightly. "Do you think I'm about to be executed?"

Yassen shrugged. "Normally, yes. However, you are skilled and loyal to the organization, rather than individuals in it. This should be enough to spare you this time. It is fortunate that you were sent away by the board during the assassination, or you would be a suspect and summarily shot as either disloyal or incompetent."

Nile relaxed a bit. "You're seeing Three, too?"

Yassen shrugged. "Yes, most likely our next assignments." Nile was about as relaxed as he ever got, now. Gregorovich tended to have a sixth sense for the moods of the board. Probably because he had a lot in common with them, albeit mostly Three. Plus, they would normally have sent him as a sniper (his specialty), if it was Cossack who would be his executioner. They both knocked on the good doctor's door and were promptly told to enter.

* * *

Four members of the executive board were inside. Cossack refrained from reacting, but Nile tensed ever so slightly. It was odd to have so many in the same place, but Yassen knew better than to ask questions or comment. Mikato, Three, Kurst, Chase - it was an interesting combination. Yassen knew better than to speak, as did Nile. The look Kurst was giving him was appraising, not that Yassen was unused to such looks. "Cossack you've done competently for all of your previous assignments. We have something special planned for you and Nile."

Joy. More executive board members were taking an interest. He'd almost made it to retirement. "Yes, sir."

Kurst was expressionless as ever. "A pity about Rothman." Cossack knew better than to react to the obvious bait. The man stepped toward him. It took most of what he had to remain motionless. The board all loved their mind games, but he refused to play. Yassen was an assassin, and very adamant on that particular. Nile glanced at the man. He was vaguely impressed, most people would have run away screaming right about now. Then again, Cossack was not most people. "We've been having issues with a client request in the States. Finish it. Your usual pay, I presume?"

Yassen shrugged. "That will be fine." His eyes freezing over. Finish the assignment and the client, apparently, some people were pissed off. Nile wondered why they were being paired. "Cossack, we have a few things to discuss in private with Nile." Yassen left. That was what passed for a dismissal.

Three took up the thread next. "Nile, in light of your skill, absence at the time of death, and continued loyalty to SCORPIA, the board voted to spare you. You will be serving Mikato and Chase jointly until further notice." Nile was never gladder in his (short) life that Gregorovich was creepily right. He was sure his relief showed, but only to this lot. Three paused. "You are also well known for your agreeability and persuasiveness."

Oh, no. They _did_ know most of it was blackmail, right? "Do _try_ to persuade dear Cossack to take an apprentice. He seems most reluctant, but we have a vested interest in the next generation, you know?" Well, fuck. He was supposed to charm the guy who was literally the embodiment of a glacier. A homicidal glacier. Maybe the one that sunk the Titanic and killed people. "I'll do my best, sir."

Three gave a slightly indulgent smile. "I know. Dismissed." Nile left as quickly as possible.

* * *

Three turned to Chase and Mikato. "You two are satisfied I trust?"

Chase let off a faint aura of smugness. "Quite. Rothman was Yassen's work?"

The doctor smirked. "I neither confirm nor deny such things." Mikato barely resisted a snort.

Chase grinned. "In other words, you gave him the blueprints. No need to be shy, doctor." The temporary alliance of the four men allowed for some small measure of affability. None of them would accept food from the other, but it was more relaxed than a formal board meeting. "None of us liked Rothman anyway, too many parties, that one."

The doctor shrugged. Mikato decided to interject. "It hardly matters now." Chase's talkativeness was not helpful in this situation. "I have business to attend to. Good afternoon, gentlemen." They were anything but. No one wanted to provoke someone for something as silly as lack of manners. Mikato exited.

Chase decided to continue for what passed as small talk in a group of high-ranking criminals. "Yassen's always done great work. Pity he hasn't got the psych profile for a second in command." Kurst barely kept from rolling his eyes. Seriously, Chase just had to bring up the obvious. At least, he wasn't unstable, like Kroll. "You think we could use him to take out a few more?" Three gave him a look that was both assessing and threatening.

"Don't go biting off more than you can chew, Brendan."

Chase knew a warning when he heard one. He considered the alliance and Yu the 'smart ones' on the executive board. "I'm heading out. I have to cover a situation in Africa." Chase left.

Kurst turned to Three after the door shut. "You know, Gregorovich's temperament is hardly suited to an apprentice, Doctor."

The doctor shrugged. "I'm sure there is at least one person, or rather a child, whom he could tolerate somewhere in the world. Just think of the possibilities, Zeljan."

* * *

Alex Rider hated being injured. He was also attempting to focus on his language lessons. Death, is there some sort of voodoo you can do to speed this up? _I don't think you would like the consequences._ Like what? _Ending up dissected in a DARPA lab._

Fair point. _There are a few people who work on highly experimental and very painful medicine outside government supervision. The possible side-effects include psychosis, mood swings, hallucinations, extreme pain, and some wacky hormones._

On second thought, I'll take my normal healing rate. _Good choice, short-stack._

Slam! Byrne was back early. "You know, I'm sure Ian would forgive you if you took a day off."

Alex sighed. "It's been almost a month since school let out, Byrne. That's what's called slacking off."

Byrne shrugged. "Just don't go psychotic on us."

Alex rolled his eyes and snapped his book shut. "You know, people literally have no control over their sanity, right? Besides, if all it took to stop people from going insane was to tell them not to, shrinks would be out of a job."

Byrne chuckled awkwardly. "Yeah, I guess." Alex looked at Byrne. Byrne repressed a shiver as he was inadvertently reminded of Alan Blunt.

"Joe, what aren't you telling me?"

Slam! Ian was back. "He wants to see you."

Alex sighed. "Context, Ian. I assume in this case, you mean Druggie McCrimelord." Byrne sniggered.

Ian looked harried. "Yes, but for the love of god don't call him that to his face."

Alex flashed Ian his most innocent look. "What's his name again?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "Antonio Rodriguez and his son Miguel. Please behave, Alex, please."

Alex sighed. Ian was really good at guilt-trips. "I'll do my best. You know how I am about bullies, though."

Ian groaned. Joe sent him a pitying look. "Look, kid. Sometimes-"

Alex's eyes flashed dangerously. "No. If I see something, I do something, Joe." With that Alex left to grab a few more weapons. Ian glanced at Joe.

"At least he has principles."

Ian sent him a furious glare. "A lot of good that will do if it gets him shot."

* * *

The ride to the drug dealer's place was quiet and tense. Alex was fairly sure this move was more to poke at Ian, rather than an interest in him. It paid to be careful, though. Plus, drug dealers had enemies and rivals. They could attack at any time. Needless to say, he was on high alert. They arrived and the corridor seemed bare. Alex noted the snipers on the roof. Paranoid, at least. Hopefully, there wouldn't be trouble. The house seemed to be in the style of the ancient Greek villas he'd visited. The columns were smooth and white. The inside of the house had tons of columns. Lovely, he'd have to worry about spies behind each one. Alex's first impression on Antonio Rodriguez was a man that was straightforward, at the very least. Violent when he had to be. At least the man didn't seem terribly sadistic, from what he'd read. Alex wasn't going to speak first. Antonio spent a few minutes giving Alex what he was sure was supposed to be an intimidating look. After Yassen and a whole bunch of egomaniacal, insane SCORPIA goons, it just sort of vaguely amused him. "You must be Alex."

Alex tried very hard to keep the sarcasm out of his voice. "Sure, so nice to meet one of Ian's work partners." Ian's elbow landed on his kidney. Alex didn't wince.

Antonio seemed more amused. "At least you have a spine. Perhaps it will rub off on my son when you meet him." Oh, goody. Another Paul Drevin. He _so_ looked forward to trying to avoid flashbacks. "Miguel. Your new playmate."

The boy seemed faintly suspicious as he stepped out from one of the columns. Alex applauded him, under the circumstances. "And how long is this one staying?"

Antonio waved his hand. "A few days, give or take." Ian's poker face was excellent, but Alex could tell he was worried. He was sure he'd sleep _wonderfully_ too. Alex decided not to push the guy. His studies could wait a few days. "Run along, you two. Play nicely."

* * *

Miguel hovered near him. "So, how old are you?"

Miguel looked relieved. "Fourteen."

Alex shrugged. "I'll be eleven in a few weeks. Do you want to do anything in particular?"

Miguel shook his head. "Can we go for a walk, then? I'm rather fond of the outdoors."

Miguel shrugged. "Sure. The guards will watch us, but we'll be fine as long as we don't leave the property."

Alex grinned. "Race you to the door?"

The boy smiled. "You're on!"

Playing at being his age wasn't that hard. It was a nice break. Alex admired the cacti, particularly the poisonous ones in bloom. They were actually very pretty. "You queer or something?"

Alex laughed. "No. Why?"

Miguel shrugged. "One of the guards told me once that only queers and women like flowers."

Alex smirked. "You know, you can actually eat this one, once you cook it. It tastes sweet." Alex had studied both edible and inedible plants. It was true.

"Really?"

Alex held back his snort. "Yep. Not girly anymore are they?"

Miguel shrugged. "I suppose not." A small pause. "You think we could get the cooks to make it?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "They're your cooks. You tell me."

Miguel smirked. "Let's go then." As it turns out, the cook was a sweet old lady who was only too happy to indulge unusual requests. She also seemed fascinated by Alex's hair.

"It's so straight and soft. Do you use conditioner?" Alex groaned mentally while Miguel silently laughed behind her back.

"No, ma'am. It's naturally like that." The next statement really set him off. "You're lucky to have such pretty hair."

Alex desperately tried not to blush and insist he was handsome. "Thank you, ma'am." Miguel almost fell out of his chair. "And so polite too." She continued. Alex made a point of being nice to people who made his food. "You'll definitely attract plenty of women." Alex decided to gently cut her off as he turned ever so slightly red.

"Thank you, ma'am, we'll let you get back to your work."

He grabbed Miguel and dragged him out. "Come back anytime, dearies."

* * *

Miguel was still sniggering occasionally by dinnertime. At least he had the layout of the estate. Just in case. "Sure you don't want any flowers, pretty boy?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Shut up, you."

Miguel just grinned. Alex was reminded of Tom, for a minute. "I like you, you know, you're better than the others."

Alex looked at him. "What do you mean?"

Miguel shrugged. "The other kids dad brought over. They're all jealous, weirded out, or scared shitless. Nobody I could ever joke with, you know."

Alex shrugged. "You know we just met, right?" Rich and powerful didn't faze him in the slightest. Besides, he'd met richer and more powerful people than a drug lord.

Miguel was giving him an intense look. "Yeah, but you're perfect."

Alex tried to lighten the situation. "Not really. I mean, I'm kind of slacking off on my homeschooling right now."

Miguel was still eyeing him. Possessively? "No, you really are. I might ask to keep you."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I have a life already. In Germany." He figured with the creepy stalker vibes he was getting, telling him a fake country was a good idea.

"You could have a life here." Alex chose not to respond to that. Mini-psychos tended not to take rejection well. Miguel switched back to light-hearted like what just happened was nothing. "Well, dinnertime!" Jesus. He hoped daddy dearest was able to deny his son. Ian was not going to be happy. Plus, it might cause a diplomatic incident. Was he radiating a magic pheromone? Did he have some sort of allure? Why was it always the creeps? _Well, Lexi. You might just be the first nice person he met._

And now he wants to keep me. Like a piece of property. _He could just have latent homosexual tendencies and may have inherited his father's propensity for obsession, too._

Fuck's sake, Grim. _He could just want a life companion._

Because that's _so_ reassuring. _Go to dinner, Alex._

* * *

Alex sat down at the table with Ian, Joe, Antonio, and Miguel. Well, this seemed like a good start. "So, Alex what is it you do for fun?"

Alex thought of Fenrir, Tara, and Yassen. "The usual stuff, I guess. Sports, walks, the occasional hobby." Alex kept it concise.

"I heard you liked plants." Fucking creep probably had the place bugged.

"Oh, yes. Interesting stuff. You wouldn't believe how many plants you can eat that people don't."

Antonio's eyes glinted. "Such a fascinating hobby. And poisons Alex?"

Alex shrugged. "Of course. You can't go through a plant book without finding the toxicity warnings. Just the theory, yes?" He'd made sure to keep up his accent. Antonio let it go after that. The cactus was as sweet as it was described in the book he'd read. The dinner ended without incident. Joe and Ian kept up the small talk. Miguel occasionally cut in, but Alex kept quiet. He really didn't have much to say. Plus, he was still creeped out by their conversation earlier. Alex sighed as dessert came in.

Miguel was back to eyeing him creepily. "Can we have a sleepover?" Just wonderful.

Antonio shrugged. "Sure. I trust there will be no trouble?"

Looks at Ian. "Fine by me. Behave, Alex."

Alex smiled charmingly. "Don't I always?"

Ian actually laughed. "Don't get me started, Alex. Your pranks, dear god."

Byrne groaned. "But I wanna hear the stories."

Ian shrugged. "I'll tell you later." They left. Alex was alone, with a drug dealer and his maybe-obsessed son.

The drug dealer looked at him. "I knew you couldn't be boring. To get my son's attention. Why are you armed, Alex?" It took everything Alex had not to draw and shoot. Not an immediate threat, he repeated over and over in his head. Antonio's expression softened. "Are you in trouble?" Alex was barely breathing.

* * *

"Not many children are armed in my neighborhood, you know. The others, yes. I don't use child assassins or mules."

Alex sighed. "I'm _not_ an assassin. I was _never_ an assassin."

Antonio sighed. "Do you want help?"

Alex started. "Not the kind anyone can give."

The man was intrigued. "What do you really seek?"

Alex spoke before he finished thinking. "Knowledge. Power. The ability to be free and not a pawn."

Antonio opened the cabinet. "Miguel, leave. I want to talk to Alex alone."

Miguel looked a little shell-shocked. "Yes, father."

Antonio offered him a drink. "If you have the wants of a man, you can drink like one." The man sat across from him. "You and I, we are not so different. I would offer you a job, but I do not think you would take it. Instead, I will offer you my alliance."

Alex was rather shocked. "Why?"

Antonio shrugs. "I have nothing to lose and everything to gain. Your CIA and MI6 already offered an alliance. I have a feeling you are a more loyal friend, in any case."

Alex shrugs. "True. I'd help if you were in trouble. You're the first person who's ever taken me seriously. Why do this, though? You know, in the end, neither side will take me."

Antonio looked at him. "I was slightly older than you when I left home to find myself. Instead, I found a neighborhood. I found people on puppet strings. The drugs, the dealers, and the CIA behind it all. I was not strong enough to fight it. In truth, I want it all torn down. I have a feeling that, in time, you will help. Help me fight the corruption of the agencies and I will help you with whatever you want. Promise me, that when the time comes, you will come here and help me remove the drug dealers and the CIA. Help me burn the world down and build something better."

Alex barely kept his mouth from dropping open. Well, their goals were the same, sort of. Corrupt, drug-dealing CIA agents. He hoped Joe wouldn't miss 'em. "Yes." It was a cause he believed in.

"Do you have a phone, for emergencies?

Alex gave him the phone Tara had given him. Antonio began entering numbers. "What are all those?"

The man finished a few minutes later. "My people. You can use them as you will. I will handle the payment".

* * *

"Why are you doing this? Not that I'm not grateful, but an alliance is one thing, giving me the keys to the kingdom is quite another."

Antonio shrugged. "My son will get my money, but in truth, he would not and could not handle my people well. You, on the other hand, can. Frankly, I'm hoping this all doesn't blow up in my face, as the Americans like to say."

Alex shrugged. It was his choice and now he had semi-trustworthy people he could call for emergencies. "I have people on both sides I'm going to protect."

The man snorted. "I know. Do you think there is anything I would not do for my son, alliance or no alliance?"

Alex shrugged. "Fair enough." Alex was surprised this was going so well. There weren't even nukes involved yet. He figured this guy was like the Mexican Sarov. Good-ish intentions and no outlet. The only reason he hadn't done something crazy was that he had a person he cared about. "What happens to your empire?"

Antonio sighs. "I am slowly becoming legitimate. I hope to be all the way there when our move comes. I know it won't happen for years." Alex felt satisfied that he wasn't expected to sacrifice more of his childhood now. "Go and find Miguel, now. I must think about a few things." Alex took this as dismissal and walked out. Still not quite registering his new reality. He had a backer. Admittedly, an illegal one with questionable sanity, but it was nice to have someone on your side. The next step? Recruiting more people. He'd have to convince Joe or Ian to tell him about hiring practices for intelligence work.


	26. Mexico, Part Two

The next few days were spent playing with Miguel. Alex had even helped him with a minor and fairly harmless prank on some of the guards. Antonio had been amused but scolded them for distracting the security. Miguel seemed to enjoy his company but didn't really exhibit any weird behavior again. Maybe he was just really lonely, with a slightly warped perspective on human relationships? Hopefully. He was _so_ not in the mood to deal with another possessive sociopath in his life. Speaking of Yassen, he was even less thrilled about Alex's play-date than Ian was. Alex shuddered to think of what would have happened had he not been on a SCORPIA assignment. He tried not to think about what Yassen was doing with Nile on said assignment. Probably something horrific and bloody. He sighed. Really, he knew why he cared, but it was hard sometimes. Then again, this was the only man who'd even bothered to halfway protect him in all of his operations. It was a bit sad when the _assassin_ had more morals than the _intelligence agency_. That and a small twisted part of him respected the coldness, the sheer ruthlessness, and worshiped the pure skill in the art and science of killing the man had achieved out of spite. He really was a good assassin. Alex made a mental note to never mention that to Ian. He'd have a fit. He'd also have to go exploring London, even the gritty parts. It paid to know your own home better than its intelligence agency. Escape, allies, distractions, and other things came to mind (cough, starting a bar fight or two, cough). Eventually, his time in the mansion came to an end. Ian and Joe both came to pick him up. The car ride back was filled with an awkward silence. Ian had the steering wheel in a death grip. Joe was clenching and unclenching his left hand. "It wasn't that bad, guys. Really, I got fed and everything and there was no torture involved."

Joe glared daggers at Ian's back. "Oh, that isn't the point, now is it?" Inter-agency conflict, then. Alex decided not to intervene. The two of them had relaxed slightly, though.

* * *

Joe was still glaring at Ian's back as he left each day. He was helping Alex, though. The man claimed he had nothing better to do, but Alex suspected it had something to do with whatever his problem with Ian was. "Dude, what's your problem with Ian? I doubt you normally let the rivalry get this personal."

Joe sighed. "It's not that. He brought you along and he shouldn't have. This could have gone bad really easily."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It really went fine, Joe."

The man groans. "That's not the point. I'm not arguing with you about this, anyway."

Joe grinned suddenly. "Do you want to take a break?" Trying to teach Ian a lesson like this was probably unethical, but he didn't care. Besides, the kid wouldn't be hurt and they were just meeting some old 'buddies' (cough, assets, cough). Alex shrugged. Judging by Joe's shit-eating grin, this was going to be interesting. Besides, if Joe betrayed him, he wouldn't outright kill him, but he knew some very painful shots that were perfectly non-lethal. He packed a few extra rounds. He had no idea of Joe's idea of fun, but Alex figured it was better safe than sorry. The throwing knives he'd found in the basement had to be his father's. Ian hadn't gone near them and said that the other set was perfectly fine. Something about these had called to him and he'd ended up adding them to his personal arsenal. Ian had been rather strict during the knife-throwing lessons, but Alex suspected that was more safety than anything else. Ian had also apparently written a book about the rise and fall of the Cold War and intelligence and criminal organizations. Alex was supposed to read it when they got home. He'd already started it before Ian had given it to him. It was kind of awesome to read, actually.

Alex refocused on the task at hand as they left the apartment. Observation had always served him well in the past. When they got to a seedy-looking part of town, Alex just had to say something. "You get that I'm underage, right?"

Joe smirked. "Like you wouldn't break into whatever you Brits have instead of a liquor cabinet."

Alex snorted. "I'll have you know that was a European invention, you boorish American."

His snark was going to unprecedented levels. "Sure you guys did. I bet you stole it from some poor hardworking businessman in America."

At least Joe was fun to banter with. "Bullshit, Joe. Your history classes in America are bullshit."

Joe groaned. "You remind me of a guy we had back just after the Berlin Wall fell. Agent Odair. Never shut up about how America had nothing original. Pain in the ass. Best and worst operative I've ever had. He once used the rule-book as toilet paper to prove a point. The bravest man I ever knew."

Alex was curious. "What happened to him?"

Joe sighed. "That's the funny thing. There was an explosion and everyone thought he got out OK, but he never showed back up. Dropped off the fucking map. Maybe someone did him in. Maybe he just wanted to retire. Nobody knows. Even the head couldn't find him or a body."

Alex shrugged. It was kind of interesting. "What kind of stuff did he pull?"

Joe suddenly looked much younger. "Oh, you wouldn't believe it. He once made a flamethrower out of a hairdryer and set a mirror on fire. Apparently, one of the mercs we hired pissed him off." Alex started laughing. Joe continued. "Then, he had the gall to try to claim it was an accident, especially after said merc burned off his eyebrows and half his hair during the same incident. I had no proof of anything, so I let him off. But man, that briefing was hard to keep your face blank through."

Alex grinned. "Oh, but Joe, there was no evidence linking him to that fine piece of work."

Joe froze for a minute and his smile turned wistful. "That was almost the exact same thing he said. Anyway, we're here."

* * *

It was one of the most obviously seedy bars that Alex had ever seen. Joe had to cut off his memory trip to Odair. Man, he missed that guy. You weren't supposed to have favorite agents- top agents, yes, favorites, never- but Odair was still his. Even after all these years. The man with blond hair and strikingly green eyes had never faded from memory. Joe just wished he had gotten an actual goodbye and not some fucking letter explaining that they would never meet again. Odair had never been afraid to tell the SCORPIA goons to fuck off to their faces. Of course, Odair could actually win in a fight again one or two of 'em, but that was beside the point. Joe blamed Alex for the trip down memory lane, not that he minded. Odair had the very same sense of humor. He had only worked for the CIA for a year or so, but some people were just more strikingly memorable than others. Plus, the guy had been majorly underage when they hired him. Joe had honestly thought it was starvation or something. Didn't the Soviet countries have like a bazillion food shortages? Anyway, they were at the bar. Yes, it was one of the seedier areas, but it was one of the few places that were 'neutral' in the city. Mind you, it only applied to inside the bar. Once you were out the door, you were on your own.

* * *

Joe opened the door and made a beeline for a table with three operatives. Alex could tell just by looking that they had all been trained at some point. They weren't CIA per say. Maybe they were Joe's old sources? Alex doubted Joe would let him near anything current unless he'd seriously misjudged the man. Joe actually seemed to object to his presence. Alex didn't blame him, but at least he was nice about it, unlike some soldiers. Joe was introduced the four of them. "Janet, Amun, and Lana meet Alex."

The women examined Alex, while Amun was more direct. "They get younger every year, don't they Joe?"

Alex had enough of a sore spot about his age, thank you. "I'm sure it's your undying pleasure to meet me to, nursing home."

The man grinned. "Are you in any way related to a guy who calls himself Odair?"

Alex sighed. "Nope, sorry. Besides, both of my parents are dead."

Amun sighed. "Damn. I miss that guy. I was hoping someone found him after all these years. It was just the sort of retort he'd have."

Alex sighed. That Odair guy was starting to sound like the CIA John Rider, except AWOL. "So what did all of you do, when you were in your prime?" They all grinned.

Janet went first. "I was Joe's secretary. I also did a lot of analyst work."

Amun shrugged. "I was in finance and occasionally a technical specialist. More that I'm good with computers."

Lana was last. "I taught languages and did occasional undercover work, nothing major."

Alex didn't think those sounded like particularly trying jobs. "So why'd you quit?"

Amun shrugged. "We couldn't go back to the old CIA stuff after Odair. It just didn't work for any of us. We all left and did our own little search and then we just stayed here, in hopes he'd turn up someday."

Alex thought it all sounded rather sad. "So do you have any stories? Joe said that guy liked to be funny."

Amun actually looked alive for a few seconds. "Oh yeah, let me tell you about the time he dressed up in drag. In those days, it just wasn't done, ya know…" Alex smirked. This had to be good.

* * *

A few hours later, Alex had a bunch of brand new stories to put in his journal. He was pretty sure absolutely none of them were remotely age-appropriate. As a teenager mentally, he could appreciate them in their full R and X rated glory. Odair would have been his kind of guy. Pranks, outrageous behavior, pissing off Blunt and what he was pretty sure was the earlier version of SCORPIA. Damn, he was shocked nobody sectioned or fired the guy. After all, who did all that? He guessed it was more like the man never failed. Hence, he got loads of latitude. A lot like him, actually. Alex remembered at least two occasions where he'd injured the Prime Minister. Joe had enjoyed reminiscing with his ex-colleagues. Jesus, he sounded eighty. The kid had seemed right at home with a bunch of old geezers, who had apparently decided to throw age-appropriate out the window. Never mind propriety. For a Brit, Alex was not at all stiff. He'd even told a few of his own prank stories. Some kid named Tom had been involved. It was stuff that'd get you a fine at most, but it sounded like the shit he used to have to fill out paperwork for with Odair. Dear Jesus, it was like every pore of the guy existed to give him the paperwork. Joe had actually tallied up the numbers one day. Millions of dollars in property damage. The amount of ink and paper alone added a few extra thousand on to that. Joe had spent almost three working years filling out paperwork for it and he had been deputy director then, so that cost money. That wasn't even mentioning the amount of crap he'd destroyed on-mission. The man had loved his explosions. Man, not a boy. Even though he was young, Joe considered him a full agent and a man. He'd done the work of one certainly. Frankly, Joe missed the competence and the amazing lack of complaints. Alex just reminded him of Odair sometimes, especially with that shit-eating grin he sometimes got and the banter, nobody bickered like Odair, except Alex.

* * *

When they got back to the house, Ian still wasn't back. Joe sighed. "Does he do this shit a lot?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Nope. I usually get a different babysitter."

Joe sighed. "Do you want to keep going in your languages or have you had enough?"

Alex gave the man his best innocent look. "Keep going. Know anything rude in either Pashto or Dari?"

Joe snorted. "Some things never change." There was a pause. "I think we can do that. Now…"

Alex was having fun learning a new language. It was almost as fun as talking to Yassen. Joe really wasn't that bad. I mean, he isn't a friggin' girl scout, but he was nowhere near Blunt. Alex was actually happy for most of the evening. Eventually, they ran out of fun little phrases to say. "Tea, Joe?"

Joe sighed, just when he forgot he was speaking to a Brit. "Why not?"

Alex grinned. "No snarky comment?"

Joe snorted. "Everything about brits and tea is taken."

Alex plopped the mug down in front of him. "Sure Joe, just keep telling yourself that every time you run out of comebacks."

Ian chose that moment to open the door. "Getting along, you two?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure."

Ian shut the door. "Don't get too attached. We're leaving tomorrow."

Alex sighed. "Gee thanks for the advance warning, Ian. I'll pack then."

Alex left the room. Joe just looked at the man. "That was a little harsh, not to mention sudden."

Ian shrugged. "He's my nephew, in case you forgot."

Joe snorted bitterly. "As if I ever could. No good is going to come of dragging a kid into this."

Ian snapped the cabinet door he'd been opening shut. "And I say mind your own business, Joe."

Joe glared at him. "You may be lead in this because of your damn boss, but this is my mission to and I'm _not_ interfering; I'm being a _decent_ human being. Tell me, who the _fuck_ leaves a ten-year-old alone for hours on end? Never mind the drug dealer!"

Ian shrugged. "Regrettable, but Alex can handle it, besides it doesn't happen very often and you were with him most of the time." The two continued.

* * *

Alex sighed as he listened to the argument through the door. It wasn't intentional. The walls were really thin. Joe was swearing and Ian had adopted the icy calm that irritated the fuck out of anyone really angry with him. When he was like that, it was like shouting at Blunt. It didn't do you any good and your voice got tired. Luckily, Ian never really shut down like that on him. He packed his bags. Clothes, books, weapons. Ian had given him one of the cases they used to get their weapons past customs. Alex wasn't sure they would be on a plane, but he kept a few harmless looking ones on him, even then. One of his knives turned into a really unique-looking necklace. Some of his poisons looked like or were hidden in everyday objects. Souvenirs. Alex looked at his phones last. Nothing from Tara, Antonio, or Frank. Not that he expected anything, but he checked anyway. He decided to call Jack. Ian had given him a phone. Jones had texted him, but he was in the mood to make her wait. Besides, Jack was more important. She usually stayed up pretty late and got up early, especially during the earlier years.

* * *

"Alex?"

Jack's voice filled him with relief. "Yes, Jack. I thought I'd let you know I'm alive or something."

Jack felt her lips twitch. "I'm glad. Your furball is pining for you. He's really sad."

Alex grinned; he was secretly glad his dog missed him. "Is my dog now a metaphor for your emotions?"

Jack's laughter filled his ears. "I wish. That grumpy mutant just got summoned by the sound of your voice you know."

Alex chuckled. "My poor, noble hound. How dare you besmirch his honor?"

Jack snorted. "Noble my ass. He broke into my bedroom."

Alex smirked. "Now do you believe me?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "Yes. I'm locking my door." She wasn't actually, but Alex didn't need to know that.

"Aw, but then you won't be able to enjoy the snuggly goodness."

Jack laughed. "I have to go to bed, Alex."

Alex grinned. "See, he really is nice and warm. Goodnight, Jack."

Jack smiled for the first time in the two weeks Alex was gone. "Goodnight, Alex. Alex sighed with relief as he hung up. She seemed glad to get a call. He thought she might be irritated at the time. Now for Jones.

* * *

_-A_

_We thought you might be kidnapped._

_-J_

* * *

Alex was calling bullshit on that. There was no way they hadn't checked the airport footage, with the way Blunt liked to micromanage and nitpick. Plus, they would have tried his phone before now, if that was the case. What on earth could Jones possibly want? He was ten and not her employee.

* * *

_-J_

_Nope, Jonesie. Not unless you count my own guardian. Why are you really texting? We both know full well you checked the footage or there'd be a manhunt._

_-A_

* * *

It was worth a try. Plus, Alex Rider was more likely to give something away than his uncle. Jones was wondering why Ian was taking him on 'trips' again. Frankly, the pattern of changes and the amount of criminals that came out of the works for Alex was alarming. Not to mention, Sarov, the paranoid Russian bastard, seemed to actually like him for some odd reason. Meanwhile, she had a reputation to maintain. Women had enough difficulties being taken seriously in intelligence and the military.

* * *

_-A_

_Always good to double check. And never call me that in public._

_-J_

* * *

Alex grinned. Irritating the deputy heads of intelligence agencies was a fun, if unsafe, hobby. Besides, Jones and Byrne were way too easy to get a rise out of. Honestly, it was like the last few years really sucked the life out of them, the last time. Joe and Ian were still arguing. Alex sighed and decided to say goodbye to Joe after Ian went to his room.

* * *

_-J_

_Why not? It's fun. I could come up with something much more embarrassing._

_-A_

* * *

Alex and his uncle had way too much in common. She wanted at least the majority of Rider men to take her seriously (her authority, at least). Besides, Alex needed to learn that angering the home office was a bad idea. Blunt would have probably had him sectioned if he hadn't acted seriously during questioning. Jones would be the first to admit that intelligence agents occasionally abused their power.

* * *

_-A_

_And I could severely limited your future job options to janitor or sewage worker, but I'm not going to._

_-J_

* * *

She had a point. But then, Jones could only limit his _legal_ options as _Alex Rider_. Alex could all too easily become someone else for employment reasons. Alex figured he could go into the fringes of society and move a lot or do _contracting_ for semi-illegal people. For example, he could think of a few private military subsidiaries that wouldn't ask any questions about explosive ordinance they bought.

* * *

_-J_

_Point taken. Nighty, night._

_-A_

* * *

Jones was starting to think Alex didn't like them, for whatever reason. Smithers had called him particularly charming, but she supposed that she, Blunt, and Crawley made an intimidating set. That and he didn't seemed to accept any kind of authority. She supposed he was within his rights to dislike them as people, but it was odd considering that their interactions had been mostly neutral (outside circumstances excepted). Still, wouldn't he be more likely to go to them if terrorists kept approaching him?

* * *

_-A_

_You do know I'm one of the most powerful people in Britain, right?_

_-J_

* * *

Alex knew full well, thank you. He just didn't give much of a shit, unless she used that power to illegally employ him again. Plus, he was going to end up on her shit list eventually, right? His new plan to get rid of corrupt agents would probably not swing well with either side. It was years to come, but eventually he'd probably go down as one of the most notorious murderers on the planet. He supposed his new focus was war strategy (overt and covert), combat, and being able to blend in the maximum number of places. At the moment, he figured Jones needed another reminder.

* * *

_-J_

_You do know I'm ten, right? And not your employee. Shouldn't you be going through Ian?_

_-A_

* * *

He had a point. She should _technically_ be going through Ian. However, they clearly needed new files on Agent Rider's (now inscrutable) nephew and having material for a high-level analyst to work with was key. It was an odd mix of cooperation and rebellion with him. It was like he was with them on the surface, but his true loyalties were to himself or another higher power. He acted more like one of their blackmail victims than a child of one of their agents. Wouldn't Ian have raised him as a patriot?

* * *

_-A_

_I'll wait until you're in a cooperative mood, then._

_-J_

* * *

Alex snorted. He wouldn't _ever_ be in a cooperative mood for MI6, but Jones didn't know that. It was funny how persistent she was being this time. _Well, Alex you've already proven yourself to be cool under fire and able to track crooks._

It was A COINCIDENCE! _MI6 doesn't believe in coincidences._

Death! _Really now Alex, you'd make a wonderful addition to Special._

I'd rather die. _On second thought, I'll help if you need it. The paperwork, Alex, the paperwork._

Really? And yet, you find time to blurb into my head. _Your death is more paperwork than it should be possible to assign._

Fine, you know you're amoral when it's the paperwork that drives you to help the kid. _Alex, Alex, Alex. You know I don't do things out of the goodness of my heart. Besides, if I was a bleeding heart, we would have the rare suicidal primordial on display at the zoo._

You have a zoo? _Don't be rude. Nighty, night, Lexi._

Alex was left with the urge to strangle a certain someone. He wasn't sure why, no, not at all. The argument seemed to have stopped, if Joe's quieter swearing and Ian's slight door slam was any indication. Alex sighed. He really did like Joe, but knew better to interfere with Ian. Besides, Joe didn't have all the information to make judgments within the first place. Oh well, it wasn't like Joe could do anything anyway. He couldn't interfere with Ian without causing an international incident of massive proportions. Besides, Alex liked Joe enough that he was going to try to keep him off a collision course with Blunt and his ilk. He slipped on his jacket and stepped out to living room. "I still think you're being unreasonable about- Oh, it's you."

Joe changed direction mid-sentence. "Yes, Joe, whatever happened to situational awareness?"

Joe rolled his eyes. The resemblance was almost painful. "Screw you."

Alex grinned. "That's called child abuse, Joe."

Joe snorted. "I came to say goodbye, Joe. It was nice meeting you."

Joe sighed, right he was leaving. "Goodbye."

* * *

Joe Byrne hated feeling powerless. He was just going to watch Alex go and there was nothing he could do without causing an international incident. It just wasn't right, taking your kid with you when you did this job. Plus...he'd made the mistake of getting attached. The kid had actually learned from him, joking aside. Dari and Pashto. Why on earth would he be teaching a kid that? Alex had been extraordinarily attentive. Most junior operatives wouldn't have the same laser-like focus. Then again, most junior operatives had a mortgage and bills and a family to worry about (or parents and siblings, at the very least). It was also the sheer difficulty of the languages and the way Alex quickly caught on. It was as though his life depended on learning it all. Then, Alex had saved his life and gone to the drug dealer without a single question. It was like he was already grown, but other times Joe would swear he was five at the maximum. The observation was weird too. Alex took in everything. They had been shot at, for God's sake! Most kids would be crying, wouldn't they? In shock? Had Alex been shot at before? Then, the leg wound. That was definitely the sort of thing kids would cry about. That uncle...Joe was about ready to punch him. Joe supposed he would never know. He hoped Alex ended up ok.

* * *

The next day, he and Ian left before the sun rose. It didn't take long for Ian to start questioning him. "Joe Byrne, huh?"

Alex shrugged. "He was nice and he helped me with the languages."

Ian nearly growled. "He's the deputy head of a foreign power."

Alex really didn't care. "Your point?"

Ian shrugged. "Only that he may not have entirely pure motives."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're paranoid, Ian."

Ian looked at him. "Am I?" Alex sighed and stared out the window. "You called Jack last night."

Alex shrugged. "I always hated not getting any calls from you. I don't want to do that to her."

Ian sighed. "It was too dangerous."

Alex shrugged. "That doesn't mean I have to like the fact that it was one of the things that kept me safe. That and you pretend not to care whenever anybody is looking."

Ian glanced at the road and then at him. "You know I do. I just can't show it like I want to." Alex just stared out the window. He had three phones now. It was kind of funny when you thought about it. He wondered what Yassen would ask for as the other part of his favor. Alex had no illusions about the man and their relationship was not necessarily a balanced, equal thing, but he honestly enjoyed their text conversations. He couldn't help but wonder what he and Nile were up to. What on earth would require both of them? Alex didn't really want to know but at the same time… He decided to cut off that train of thought before he went to investigate them. If Yassen didn't find out and murder him, Nile would. One of them was bad enough. Alex spent the most of the car ride in silence. He wondered if Sarov would recommend books for war strategy. Technically, the man was one of the most qualified people he could ask.

* * *

Ian Rider was, by nature, a suspicious man. His job was to notice things. Things that tended to threaten national security. It occurred to him on the drive that Alex would make a considerable threat if he ever chose to. "Your boss texted me. I think she figured out we were together."

Ian withheld his sigh. "I hope you were polite."

Alex twitched. "I politely told her to bugger off."

Ian had a rather lopsided grin at that. "Good for you. At least your diplomacy lessons are paying off."

Alex gave him his most innocent look. "What diplomacy lessons? It was my natural charm. Besides, didn't you say I was too diplomatic?"

Ian snorted. "You know, I was the one who told Jack to teach you how to lie, right?"

Alex smiled at the memory. "Oh, that was a fun Christmas."

Ian chuckled. "For everyone except that shop attendant."

Alex felt a little better remembering his younger moments. "So, what are we doing?"

Ian grinned. "Driving Lessons. For emergencies. If you're any good I'll take you off-roading, too."

Alex was very happy with that agenda. "Automatic or Standard transmission?"

Ian shrugged. "Both." Alex dug the books out of his bag in the backseat. Time to study more for languages. They stop at a gas station a few hours later. "Do you want a book to read for fun or something?"

Alex shrugged. "Not really. Schoolwork is fine."

Ian sighed. "You know, we'll be taking a break for a few days."

Alex rolled his neck. "No reason not to keep up with my workout and languages." Ian just looked at him. "Education is _important,_ Ian."

Ian just kept looking at him. "I think I gave you that lecture one too many times."

Alex smirked. "But Ian, I can only recite it in French, German, English, and Russian."

Ian rolled his eyes. "The horror. You might have to come up with something original to recite by heart halfway through the road trip."

Alex grinned. "Hah, even you admit your lectures are long."

Ian's eyes glinted with amusement. "Not as long as your prison sentence if you don't listen to me." Alex knew he lost this one.

* * *

The first thing that Alex remembered about the United States was that the landmass was enormous and took forever to cross either vertically or horizontally. The second thing he remembered was that Texas took almost a whole day to cross. He wondered where they were going, but he supposed it didn't really matter. His driving was equally illegal in all the states. Ian stopped at a particularly deserted road in the country. "Right now, we're in a standard transmission. They're a little easier to drive. To drive the car…" Alex knew all of this already, but listening to Ian was fun enough that he didn't mind. "So, do you want to try now?" Alex gave Ian a particularly dry look. Ian grinned and unbuckled. "When you drive, save it for emergencies or stay away from people while you look under sixteen." Alex and Ian switched chairs. It was a bit odd to be doing this while he was still short, but after a few minutes, Alex adjusted and got into a good rhythm. Ian looked excited. "You seem to be getting the hang of this. Want me to show you some really awesome stuff?" Alex would never say no to Ian stunt driving; it just wouldn't be any fun. Alex pulled onto the shoulder and stopped the car. The man got back in the driver's seat. "The first thing you need to know about doing a full spin on the car is that you need to go really fast…" After a thorough discussion of spinning, having the car jump gaps, offensive and defensive driving Ian started the car back up again. Ian checked that he was wearing a seat-belt. "Always wear a seat-belt, Alex, especially when you drive." Alex knew MI6 had lied about Ian not wearing a seat-belt. Then, he gunned it. The world whooshed by while the car went faster and faster. Then, they tilted. The spin was…awesome. Frankly, so were the rest of the stunts, but if Ian offered to teach him some of them he was definitely learning how to do the 360 turn first.

* * *

After they'd switched back to Ian driving normally for a while, Ian spoke up. "Alex, uh… don't tell anyone I showed you those. People have these ridiculous ideas about child endangerment these days."

Alex grinned. "Sure, Ian."

Alex was all for Ian's brand of awesome child endangerment.

Ian relaxed. "So now that you know how to steal and drive cars, no joyriding OK? Police records are bad for job applications."

Alex snorted. He wasn't _that_ irresponsible. "OK."

Ian wasn't really sure what else to bring up about cars and driving. Basic repairs couldn't hurt, right? "So Alex, in case something in your car goes wrong…"

Ian told him all about car laws, repairs, tools (duct tape was wonderful), and how to drive in various types. It was nightfall and Ian had somehow gotten into a debate about different types of tanks with Alex. Ian wondered how Alex always managed to get off track, but tanks were really awesome. He didn't mind much, although he was rather surprised Alex knew so much about tanks. Cars he would understand, considering that once upon a time, he'd been in the car club. College. It seemed like a long time ago. They pulled up to a hotel before it got terribly late. Alex sighed. Yay, more bugs to look out for. "Won't you get in trouble with your boss? I mean you did just kind of take time off."

Ian shrugged. "I've been known to disappear for a couple days after assignments. I've already sent in my report, too. Basically, no, not really." Ian locked the car as soon as both of them had their luggage. They soon made their way up to the rooms of an all too familiar hotel chain. Alex was going to be twitchy for the next few days just because of that. He hoped they didn't end up in the last hotel he'd ever stayed at before he'd been shot. That would be a little too weird. It wasn't a short time until he fell asleep that night.

* * *

When Tulip Jones got an on-time report from Ian Rider, her first instinct was to skim through the entire thing to make sure that a three-way war hadn't erupted between the biker gangs, a drug cartel, and law enforcement. When she was satisfied the mission had actually been successful, she found that she was pleasantly surprised. Albeit, a little suspicious. Two on-time reports, consecutively? That had to be a record for him. Ian Rider was good for many things, but timely paperwork tended not to be on the list- at all. She usually had to sic Crawley on him around quarterly review week, which conveniently applied to only Agent Rider (It was so he would not have a backlog of more than a few months). Not to mention all the times she'd threatened him with probation. Despite what it looked like, the man did actually want his job as far as she knew. The office policy for 'quarterly review' was to go along with it. Humor dear Agent Rider; he's under a lot of stress. It was Tulip's not-so-subtle revenge on the man for all the crap she had to put up with. She had a feeling Ian knew it was a farce but was humoring her. After all, she sent a few newbies who didn't go with the program to Siberia to count sloths (yes, she knew full well they were native to Africa). It was a favorite of Joe Byrne's, along with demoting people to baggage carriers in hotels (though he used 'counting sheep in the most miserable shithole I can find'). It was a punishment assignment. They even had a crazy scientist or two who actually liked it there to go with the one rifle and space blanket they got as equipment. She was fairly certain it was the alternative invented for directors who didn't want to murder incompetent agents in their sleep. They left that brutality to terrorists for the most part nowadays. Usually, your boss just shot you on the spot in those (as far as they knew anyway).


	27. Welcome to America!

Yassen Gregorovich mentally added Nile to the list of people probably on directions from Doctor Three. Not that he could blame the man. His position was rather precarious and the good doctor had a lot of influence. He flipped his phone out to text Alex for the day. Nile just politely left the room. Yassen had carefully built a reputation for professionalism, ruthlessness and more than a touch of sadism. Texting Alex about the details of what he was doing was his only habit. He changed the times around a lot. It helped now that they were in a more similar time zone. Then again, he didn't sleep that much, so chances were if Alex texted he was up. They were currently plotting the death of a drug dealer and his competitors. The man had called on SCORPIA to fix his problem but had irked a board member in the process. Bad idea. Also, a fatal one. The doctor had decided to simply take over both sides of the business. Chase had seemed a little too smug about it, so Yassen had assumed this one was his operation. Nile suddenly walked back in. "Ruiz wants you."

Another annoying thing about their darling target. He seemed to prefer Yassen's deliberately prickly personality and he didn't accept that both of them had equal authority as far as he was concerned. Technically, Nile had the higher rank. However, Yassen had by far more experience, especially in assassination. Nile would most likely cede to his authority, should it come down to that. Not to mention, he was still young enough to rip the man's guts out if he chose.

"Do you think if we got him a dictionary and earmarked the pages with equal and rank he would take it personally?" Yassen stated in absolute deadpan.

Nile laughed and then caught himself halfway through with a surprised choke. "Dude, you really need to stick with one personality. It's kind of scary when you do that."

Yassen shrugged. "I can be social. I just prefer not to be." He snapped the phone shut after a quick goodbye to Alex and rose gracefully from the chair. A few elegant strides later and he was soundlessly out the door. Nile felt like he was about to pass out. Gregorovich made another joke. It felt like the universe was about to crash and burn any second now.Nile groaned. Yassen was impossible to read. He also had a tendency to combat unwanted conversation with dead silence. It was like living with a large predatory cat. You just sort of sat there and waited to see what it eventually killed and prayed it didn't decide to rip your guts out one day. Other times, it was almost like he had a sense of humor. He would swear Cossack was playing some sort of sadistic mind game, except if Yassen wanted to torture him, he'd be pinned to a board by now. Nile sighed. At least with the way Yassen was reacting to their guy, he'd be dead as soon as they took out the opponents. The SCORPIA man was practicing with his swords when the other assassin returned. "That man is an idiot."

Nile smirked. "I'm sure Three won't mind if you offer to help him with the interrogation. You are one of his favorites."

Yassen didn't seem to react. "We will see." Nile sighed and then flicked his swords to restart his exercise. Yassen watched the display and took in the man's style. It would be useful if they were ever opponents. Nile's and his swords were as recognizable among SCORPIA as him and his guns. Personally, Yassen preferred knives. They were less noticeable. Nile was taking care of the opponents with one of their organization's many combat teams. Cossack was taking care of the subtler killing of Ruiz. It had to look like an accident, but also send a message. Luckily, Alex had a gift for creative writing (of the murderous sort). The man about to have an unlucky fall out a glass window, over the balcony, ending with a fatal face-plant in a bed of poisonous cacti. It was about the least believable accident Yassen had ever heard the theory of.

* * *

Alex had to say he was enjoying the weeks with Ian even more than he thought he would. He still made sure to call Jack and Tom at least once every two weeks. When Yassen had asked him what the least believable accident he could think of was, Alex had sent back something he considered slightly sarcastic. I mean really, didn't he have a whole bunch of assassin buddies he could talk with about that stuff? Or Nile, at the very least? When Alex had seen the man's death on the news he'd started giggling madly for about a minute and a half. He couldn't believe Yassen had gone with that suggestion and that it had actually worked. They had actually gone off-roading a few times. Alex had a new love of military vehicles and land rovers. He deliberately hadn't asked where Ian had gotten them (just the military ones, the civilian cars, they rented) or why he wiped them down for prints afterward. It helped that they drove around a lot. The Spanish had come in handy for most of the south. He found out about creole French in Louisiana and that they had a large Russian community in some cities in the north. The accents on the English were as varied as the ones internationally. Alex personally like the southern accent. It was easy to pick up. There was also the car lessons. Alex was beginning to think Ian had a car obsession about as bad as his bike obsession. Ian had just given him a totally innocent look before taking him to used car stores to see the engines. And talking with the mechanic for hours. Alex had a good enough memory that most of it stayed with him after a few times. After a couple weeks, he was starting to get the feeling a used car would be a great gift for Ian, as broken down as possible. Ian just grinned like a maniac before teaching him to drive a standard transmission. Well, Alex could now add cars to the list of things Ian liked. It was a start.

* * *

Ian considered what to do next. He couldn't really justify any more time with cars, which was a shame. It was one of his lesser known hobbies. Hunting maybe? America had some pretty liberal laws, especially if they went down south. He was licensed for a firearm in the US. Plus, nobody would blink twice if he gave Alex a training bow for archery. They ended up going to the archery range together, after their daily gun range visit (well, break-in, but they brought their own ammunition). Ian came out of the store with two giant cases. Bow and arrows for both of them. I'd been a while since he'd arched. It was considered an archaic skill for the most part, unless you needed to silently kill people within a certain range. It was a lot harder to learn than guns, particularly the wind adjustment. Plus, you had to draw and shoot straight. It was harder than it looked. Alex looked at him. "What on earth are those?"

Ian grinned. "Well, since you know how to use guns and throw knives, archery is the next step." Alex had a feeling they were going on another camping trip. With dead animals. Joy.

"We'll use the range first." Ian got out his own bow. At seventy-five pounds of draw, Alex wouldn't be able to pull it. His bow was about forty-five pounds of draw. For a kid, that was a lot. He estimated that it was about what Alex could draw without injuring himself. If not, they could build up to it. Alex already had the hunting knives to go with it. Rather, he had knives that could be used as such. After a few days of mostly archery all day, Alex seemed to be able to hit a stationary target with decent accuracy. Ian figured he'd get the moving ones pretty soon and then they could go hunting together. It was nice to have an uneventful trip with Alex again. And now they had all the time they could want together. Ian had never been gladder about taking Alex from school.

* * *

The two had once again entered the forest together. They had ended up going back to Texas. It was a nice place for woodland hunting. There were supposed to be quite a few deer. Alex had really improved his archery. Ian felt vaguely proud that he'd picked it up so quickly. It was nice, having someone intelligent to mentor. Time for their first hunting session together. "Right Alex, try to go for a male deer. You don't want to kill any pregnant ones by accident. Go for the younger ones if you can, the older ones are tougher to chew. And remember, they're really sensitive to their surroundings, so definitely move quietly."

The two walked silently for hours. Ian could have used a lure of some sort, but most people didn't carry around corn feeders. They settled into a tree near a water source (Alex had practiced firing from different positions. At about four in the afternoon, the entire herd came to drink. Alex knew he was hunting with Ian. It didn't quite have the same icky feeling as shooting at people, but it wasn't something he'd ever do for fun. As he saw the herd, he recalled his recent lessons with Ian. "When you fire a bow, you need to account for your draw, the wind speed and whatever you're shooting at. Do that and you'll hit your target."

It helped that Alex knew vectors. Alex pulled back, aiming for a younger buck and releasing his arrow. It blurred for a minute before the deer collapsed. A straight shot to the heart. The herd immediately scattered, fleeing the lake. Alex was so good that he could get it through the eye, but for this, it was good enough. "A clean kill, good job, Alex."

Alex suppressed a shiver at his uncle's phrasing. "And, Alex?" Alex looked up from the deer. "Remember this. Don't hunt for anything but food. Don't kill innocents. Don't unnecessarily torture anything, even an animal, and remember that the goal here is survival, not slaughter." Alex didn't have a reply for that. He repressed another shudder. They headed back to their campsite in silence.

* * *

Ian started talking again. "Don't mess with dead bodies unless you have to. The older they are, the more diseases you can get. Meat is always best fresh. Now, to gut a deer, or even most mammals…"

Alex felt slightly uneasy at the ease with which Ian took apart the deer. He tried not to imagine Ian or Yassen doing it with a person. Ian had moved up the hunting lessons because of the family reunion. Truthfully, he would have waited until Alex was older, but if he didn't teach Alex…Marion would have done it anyway. She was not known for her compassion or patience in teaching. There was also a decent chance she would have substituted deer for people, which Ian really didn't want to put Alex through. There was also swordsmanship, which Ian was confident Alex would pick up decently fast. He would save that until they were back in England. Ceremonial swords would be enough for now. Even Marion would probably not give him an actual blade. "Anyway, I think we can move onto snares and the like."

Alex felt a little better about that. There was something about watching animals die and knowing you did it that was mildly disturbing. Especially animals with dark, chocolate brown eyes that reminded him of Ian. He didn't think it was intentional, but it was unsettling. Ian noticed Alex was rather quiet. The ride back to dinner and another hotel was also quiet. Ian sighed. He hoped he hadn't permanently scarred Alex. It was a very gentle introduction to hunting. In the army, nobody really comforted you afterward. There had been a few people who couldn't even kill rabbits. He probably should have checked. Oops. Alex hesitated before turning back to his own room. "You can stay if you want."

Alex tossed his bag and key-card on the table. "I think I will, then."

* * *

Alex entered the shower. He was tired and he definitely wasn't picking hunting as one of his hobbies. It was different from shooting evil people. Sure, it was necessary to learn if you wanted to survive in the wilderness, but Alex didn't really want to do it. He sighed. It was nice that he had Ian here this time around. Bad enough he'd already shot a man to protect his uncle. He didn't regret it, but he still thought about sometimes. He sighed and stepped out of the bathroom. "Your turn, Ian."

The man was eating what Alex thought had to be the healthiest snack on the planet. I mean, really, who actually eats dried vegetables? The man sleekly got out of bed, his undershirt clinging to his frame. Alex was secure enough to admit that his uncle was attractive. Why didn't he have any relationships? It was another odd thing. No friends, no significant others. Alex supposed it could be the job, but hadn't Blunt and Jones had families? He supposed Ian had him, but that wasn't really what he meant. Alex shrugged and put the snacks up. He supposed he should try to sleep now. He missed his fur ball. Fenrir was going to be so grumpy when they got back. Jack would probably not be terribly happy either. Alex sighed a rolled over. Ian got out in less than fifteen minutes. Leftover habit, he supposed. He sat down the bed next to Alex before going under the covers himself. Ian gently pulled him into a hug. "You don't have to do this if you don't want to," Ian whispered, barely audibly, his head near Alex's collarbone. Alex adjusted his position while returning the hug.

"It's fine." It was. Or it would be, besides having Ian with him was worth it and it wasn't like they weren't eating the meat or giving it to other people to eat. They did have someone else cook it, though. He rested his head against Ian's shoulder blade and fell asleep rather easily.

* * *

Ian held his nephew for the longest time. He was relieved that Alex seemed to be able to sleep. Most people in the family tended to have issues falling or staying asleep if they had mental issues. Both John and he had periods of insomnia in the army and later in Special when operations took their toll. Then again, it didn't mean Alex was completely okay, just that the problems weren't immediately obvious. Ian sighed as he stroked Alex's hair. Alex didn't so much as stir. It was nice having someone here. Especially, Alex. His nephew looked positively angelic while sleeping. He was a beautiful child. The tanned skin was really a nice look on him. The blond hair, delicate lashes, and slender build all hinted that he would end up as a very attractive teenager and man. Ian sighed. It wasn't like John had any difficulty attracting either men or women. Ian vaguely wondered what a good age for reviewing the talk was. Thankfully, he'd already given it to Alex at age eight, so it would be a short one. He sighed and pulled Alex closer to him, trying to fall asleep wasn't easy for him sometimes, but staying up wasn't a healthy habit. He eventually closed his eyes, holding Alex close to him. It was better him than Marion. Jeez, her lessons had been traumatizing for him when he was a grown-ass adult just out of the army. No way was Ian subjecting Alex to that. He still remembered the time she'd wanted to go 'people-hunting' in a bloody war zone. He ran his hands through Alex's hair one more time before going to sleep. His dreams were bloody that night, but he didn't wake.

* * *

Nile was once again reporting to the board. Yassen had done so separately, but that was policy. The board liked to make sure that everybody's reports independently matched. Thankfully, they had done well. They had killed the drug dealers and seized all of the product (several millions worth of it). Nile wouldn't touch the stuff without gloves and a pair of pliers, but apparently, it was grotesquely profitable. He had no reason to be nervous. It was just Three this time. He knocked before entering. There were rumors about people who forgot their manners around Three and none of them were particularly pleasant. "Sir. Primary and secondary objectives achieved."

Three wasn't surprised. He already had the written report anyhow. "And Yassen?"

Nile mentally groaned. "He's pretty adamant about taking a student on his own terms, if at all. I think he might be considering it."

Three shrugged. "Yassen is a complicated man. What makes you think so?"

Nile sighed. "He's got a phone he uses every day. Mind you, it wouldn't be business because nobody is that micromanaging over assassinations. Maybe he has somebody searching?"

Three hadn't considered it like that. "A distinct possibility, Nile. Dear Yassen isn't a people person, but someone else could search for him, provided he gave the requirements."

Nile fought to keep his face blank. Understatement of the year, right there. "It would make sense, sir. He would have the minimum of interaction that way."

Three paused for a minute. "A person who could find Yassen someone to work with would be an asset to our human resources department."

Nile nearly snorted. Someone who could find an apprentice for that man deserved some kind of matchmaking award for superhuman abilities. "I'll keep that in mind, sir."

Three's smile made him seem like a harmless old school teacher. "I'm sure you will, Nile." He needed a nice round of sword practice and a shower.

* * *

Alex was still in America after more than a few weeks. It felt like there was a never-ending amount of wilderness training he needed to do. He had to admit that America had nearly every kind of wilderness and environment. Alex would have been impressed by the nature diversity if he hadn't been stuck wandering through it. Even if it was with Ian. Alex had once heard someone in the SAS whining about three-day survival training. They should try a few months of survival training and weeks in the wilderness with Ian. They tended to work on languages and other academics when they weren't hunting. It was a rough couple of weeks before both Riders had enough. "Ian, if I see another plain, savanna, or woodland, I'm burning it to the ground."

Ian actually chuckled. "This is the last one, then." Ian's eyes were still sparkling with mirth. "If it makes you feel any better, I was about to say the same thing."

The two headed for civilization together. Alex checked the date and facepalmed. They'd both forgotten his birthday by at least a two weeks. Ian raised an eyebrow. "We forgot my birthday."

The look of horror on Ian's face was almost comical. Alex began laughing. "I am so sorry, Alex, really."

Alex was clutching his sides. "It's fine Ian, I forgot to."

Ian looked really upset. "That's not the point."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm not mad at you."

Ian sighed. "It's a parent thing, Alex. Forgetting a birthday is a cardinal sin."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Hey, I'm eleven now."

Ian gave him a dry look. "You just now realized that?"

Alex snorted. "Says the guy who completely forgot it. You're never living this down, you know that, right?"

Ian threw his hands up. "This is what I get for being nice."

Alex grinned. "If you were really nice, you wouldn't have forgotten my birthday." He'd gotten texts from Yassen, Jack, and Tom (his phone had been switched off until then for about two weeks).

* * *

The cities in America were enormous and comparatively new to their European counterparts. Alex enjoyed being able to wander like a tourist without the added pressure of people other than Ian or the special kind from intelligence agencies. Alex felt twitchy for some reason. Like he was being watched. He couldn't quite put a finger on it. It didn't feel creepy, but it was definitely making him paranoid. It had been going on for weeks, perhaps even the month. He went on his morning walk and caught a flash of brown in the corner of his eye. "Why are you following me?"

He didn't actually expect an answer. A petite teenage girl suddenly appeared as if from nowhere. Alex's senses went haywire. He immediately shot his gaze to her. She was clearly homeless and wearing ill-fitting clothes. "You're very pretty. You're like me, but you're pretty."

Alex was completely bamboozled. "Um, the word is handsome. Who are you?"

The green eyes fixed on his form. "Rhea."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That your real name?"

Rhea smirks. "No, and you?"

Alex shrugs. "You can call me Alec."

Rhea raises an eyebrow. "Is that your name?"

Alex smirks. "No."

Rhea shrugs. "You are smart then."

Alex walked beside her. "So, I guess this is where I ask what you want."

Rhea shrugs. "For now, to watch."

Alex sighs. "Watch what?"

Rhea snorts. "You and your father. It is nice to know that I am not the only one who _sees_."

Alex sighs. He supposed that would be the assumption. Alex isn't about to correct her since she could easily be an informant. "Do you want lunch?" Rhea eyes him suspiciously but accepted.

* * *

It was an afternoon full of non-answers. Alex had once thought that Ian and Jones were vague. "Rhea" had a whole new scale of her own. The only new things he found out about her was that she was originally from Lithuania and she'd lived in what he guessed was either a complete shithole or a war zone before coming to the US. She also refused to trust any kind of government official. Well, that left his options for helping her wide open. Note the sarcasm. He may have white knight syndrome, but he wasn't about to leave someone on the street. It was about time for him to go back. "So, Rhea, are you going to keep watching me?"

The woman shrugged. "Yes."

Alex wondered if he shouldn't get a restraining order. "Then, you can come get dinner with me. After that, you can even watch me sleep from less than twenty feet away in my hotel room if you want." _Yes, Alex, inviting a possible serial killer into your hotel is a great idea._ Shut up, Grim. _Fine, but if you get murdered in your sleep it is sooooo not my fault._

The woman smirked. "Am I meant to be your charity case or something?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "You can stay out in the cold if you want." Rhea shrugs. Alex questioned how he survived this long sometimes, but his gut instinct was that "Rhea" was only dangerous if you tried to be dangerous first. Besides, Ian got him a separate hotel room, so as long as the man didn't insist on eating together Alex would be fine. He doubted Ian would. They both had reached their capacity for family togetherness and were spending a few days apart. Alex liked exploring cities by himself. Rhea just followed him into the hotel. Thankfully, the hotel staff gave them zero weird looks. Alex got them room service and ordered clothes for her guessing her size. He was actually decent at it. At a hotel, you couldn't technically order clothes, but if you paid one of the staff that coming off duty most of them would take you up on it. He got a plain backpack on the way home. His allowance from Ian was pretty high, not to mention a certain bank account.

* * *

By the end of the day, Rhea was fixed in his mind for her name. Alex had tossed her the clothes and told her to shower and put the old clothes in the backpack. She raised an eyebrow and began undressing mid-walk to the bathroom. "Um, I meant _in_ the bathroom."

He was sure he was bright red. He'd made sure to avert his eyes. "Nudity is not a big deal where I'm from."

Alex turned redder if possible. "It is in western society."

He got the feeling she was amused at the entire thing. "The underwear is the right size."

Alex groaned. "Praise Jesus, I got one thing right. For the record, I don't have the hormones to appreciate whatever you do have."

Rhea shrugged. "True, but seeing you that color is amusing."

Alex facepalmed. "Just go shower, Rhea." He heard her giggling inside the bathroom. Alex rolled his eyes as some of the red faded from his cheeks. Okay, it was kind of funny. Seriously though, seeing random naked women was not any kind of ambition of his for a while. He preferred actual dating, thank you. Alex decided to finish his dinner in peace. Ian knocked on the door. Alex pulled it open. "Why is the shower on?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm about to get in it."

Ian shrugged. "Need anything?"

Alex replied. "Not really."

Ian ruffled his hair. "Goodnight." Alex shut the door behind him.

* * *

Alex lay down on the bed. His eyes were half-shut in the low light. Rhea came out fully clothed this time. He let out a sigh of relief. "How old are you, anyway?"

She loped across the room and sat on his bed a little too close to him. "Sixteen. And you?"

Alex scooted over a little. "Eleven. I like my personal space bubble, by the way."

Alex looked at her. Her forearms and legs were covered with a multitude of defensive scars. Some were thick, some were the thinnest he'd ever seen. Some were long and some were short. It made every instinct go on edge. The fact that she'd survived this long and won those fights… Rhea caught him looking. "It is like that over my entire body, for the most part."

Alex tried to settle down. "I don't mind, but, seriously, who do I need to murder?"

Rhea flipped over and loosely pinned him, rather like a panther. Her green eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Her dark, now glossy, brown hair surrounded her face like a dark frame of brown silk. "It does not matter. They are already dead, you see."

Alex swallowed thickly. Alex tried to gently push her off. "Um…Can you get off?"

She lightly dropped to her side of the bed with a huff. "Your father would not like me."

Alex sighed. She was right. "No, probably not, but I do a lot of things he doesn't like."

Rhea sighed. "I will not go where I am not wanted."

Alex suppressed his urge to sigh. "So what exactly can you do?"

Rhea shrugs. "Kill people. Not much else."

Alex resisted the urge to bang his head against the headboard. "Are you literate? Do you speak other languages?"

Rhea gave him the evil eye. "Don't be insulting."

Alex sighed. "Can you speak Russian?"

There was one other option that might work. "Yes."

It was a start. "You don't care who you kill or how you do it?"

Rhea snorts. "No."

Well, he knew a bunch of trigger-happy mercenaries who would be delighted to have her. "Would you do it for money?"

Rhea raised an eyebrow. "Are you recruiting me?"

Alex sighed. "No. It's more like a suggestion that may or may not pan out. Don't read over my shoulder." There was one near sociopath who might teach her.

* * *

Rhea would never be able to fit in with normal society. It was the only reason Alex was even thinking about sending her to SCORPIA. More specifically, Yassen Gregorovich. She was pretty much the closest you could get to an ideal candidate. More than that, she would be able to look after herself and not freeze to death on some street. Mercenary work was a good fit for some people.

* * *

_-C_

_I might have found you a student. It's not really my business, but it might get your bosses off your back._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack was intrigued. It certainly sounded better than what he currently had to choose from. Three was being pushy, _again_. He did have a few requirements and he would make his own assessment, of course. Frankly, he had faith in Alex as far as picking people went. Alex knew him well enough that he would have a better idea than certain nosy board members.

* * *

_-A_

_I'm intrigued. Age? Experience? Personality?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. How did he put this tactfully? Oh well, these two were a partnership made to last. At least Yassen would have something to occupy his time with. Besides, if things didn't work out there was always SCORPIA's school for assassination and other acts of international lawbreaking. He would keep that name to himself.

* * *

_-C_

_Sixteen. Loads of dead people. You two could be related, minus the looks. Plus, there is always the school, if you two don't work out._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack shrugged. This was true. Plus, it would get certain people to mind their own business. Why not? After all, Alex was not currently a possibility. Thankfully, Alex seemed to have found someone as socially inclined as he was. He could at least meet them. The meeting place would speak for itself.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes. Time? Place?_

_-C_

* * *

"Want to meet someone who can mentor you in assassination?"

Rhea looked at him like he was crazy. Alex supposed that he was, in a way. Assassins were kind of the rock stars of the criminal world, especially in organized crime. "I suppose. Is he good?"

Alex laughed. "He's considered one of the best in the world."

Rhea just looked at him oddly. "You'll see. He wants you to name a time and a place."

* * *

_-C_

_Tomorrow. 9:00 a.m. Borough Park, New York. Good luck, you two._

_P.S. If she calls me Alec, don't question it._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack had a feeling this might just work. It was during the day, with the morning mist just vanishing (sniper shots were harder). Near a hospital and police (in case things went south). Also, very prompt. No waiting or messing around (it would take longer than that to set up a trap). He promptly turned around and walked out of the school. He had a plane to catch.

* * *

_-A_

_Agreed._

_-C_

* * *

"You're set, Rhea. Now, don't randomly stalk people. You might get shot."

Rhea smirked. "But it worked out so well this time."

Alex felt fully justified in throwing the first pillow in the ensuing pillow fight. It was fun having someone to wrestle with. Alex was sad when they had to quit. "Goodnight, Rhea."

The woman plopped herself down next to him. "Goodnight, Alec."

* * *

The next morning, Alex decided to go with her. They were meeting Yassen, after all. "Rhea?"

The woman glanced at him one final time. "Yes, Alec?"

Alex gave her a look. "Trust no one. Everybody at the school is deadly. Everything is a test. Don't talk about your past. Don't give anybody anything to work with and never, ever disobey the board."

Rhea's eyes hardened into jade. "Thank you, Alec. For everything."

Alex gave her one last look. "You are welcome."

The man in black seemed to appear from nowhere. His ice blue eyes coolly took her in, assessing. This was a man she could picture as what 'Alec' had described. An assassin, a killer for hire. He seemed to make a decision. "Come. I am known as Cossack."

His voice was absolute deadpan. Alec vanished into the trees. It was up to the two of them, now she supposed. "He did well in picking you."

Rhea was glad he thought so. "Thank you?"

The man's lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. "Do not thank me, yet. Besides, there may be a day you curse both of us."

Rhea followed, easily keeping stride with him, despite their height difference. "I will take you to Russia to train. I will leave you in a cabin and report to my superiors before returning to you. Then you will train until you are acceptable. Do you understand?"

Rhea answered. "Yes, Cossack." The man stalked through the woods and onto the nearest train, where he paid their fare. It was the most surreal experience she had. It was only in the cabin that she wondered exactly what she had agreed to. Then again, it was still better than before. The man seemed intent only on teaching her. She thought that perhaps she got what she was looking for.

* * *

Cossack glided through the halls of Malagosto at his top walking speed. He'd called most of his contacts, but SCORPIA preferred these types of notice to be given in person. Yassen was not about to risk making the board angry over something that trivial. Thankfully, Three had decided to dine with the teachers today. He swept into the room with the swift, lethal grace that was his most natural instinct. "A mutual acquaintance has found me an apprentice and I will be unavailable until further notice."

The entire table could barely contain their shock. Gordon Ross was first to speak. "Bloody miracle, that. What kind of voodoo are they an expert in?"

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "Oh, come on Cossack, sharing is caring."

Yassen tossed him a glare that would melt steel. "You're depriving me of a teaching opportunity."

Yassen's eyes narrowed. "I can deprive you of your inner organs, Gordon."

Nile hastily cuts in. There hadn't been bloodshed in the cafeteria for nearly a decade and he wanted to keep it that way. "Ross, I'm sure you'll get your chance after Yassen is done with the preliminary training. His sources are his business."

Yassen mentally breathed a sigh of relief. Three got grouchy when he murdered teachers or students. Wasting money or something of that sort. Grouchy interrogation experts were not a good thing. Three cut in. "Yassen do sit down and have dinner. Of course, you'll have as much time as you want. You are, after all, your own agent." The entire table seemed to relax. Three mentally sighed. Sometimes Gordon didn't know when to keep his mouth shut. Most people did like him, but with a personality like Cossack's putting them in a room alone would probably result in the man's dismemberment.

* * *

Later that night, Yassen texted Alex one last thing, aside from an update. He was confident that this would work out, Ross's personality of a brillo-pad aside. Most likely, he would train her for several months in isolation and then send her to the island to wrap it up. There was only so much he could teach by himself. He was back in the cabin. First things first, he would check how comfortable with silence she was. After instructions, of course. "First things first, the tap in the kitchen is safe…" Overall, he felt it went over well. It was a better start than some people had already. For Alex and now he supposed for her, he would give this his best shot. Starting with conditioning and sniper training. No apprentice of his was going to specialize in sharp, pointy objects outside of interrogation. He was a sniper. First, though there would need to be an assessment, however. They could work up to acceptable physical condition, if necessary. There were also medical concerns to be had…

* * *

_-A_

_How did you find her?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex was feeling extra snarky. Besides, he'd gotten a two-for-one in dealing with stalkers, at least for the next few months. Not that he particularly minded those two, but he started getting paranoid after a while.

* * *

_-C_

_Well, Cossack, welcome to America! There's one of everything._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack snorted at the text. He should have known better than to ask. Oh well, two could play that game. Besides, this was the closest thing to friendly bickering he could get. He was sure his apprentice would keep "Alec's" secrets. After all, he would in the same position.

* * *

_-A_

_No need to get snarky. Good job, by the way. Dear Gordon wants to meet you now, and so do half of the board, once they find out, that is._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. So Yassen wanted to play, did he? As for the board, game on. After all, giving SCORPIA headaches was the family specialty. Ian would really murder him if he found out. This was so much fun, though.

* * *

_-C_

_I'm afraid I have a permanent schedule conflict. I'll have to decline. It's called: I don't work for terrorists. You don't count and we have an agreement._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen smirked. He figured Alex would say that. Oh well, he didn't have anything better to do at the moment. This was fun. Besides, Alex knew what he was doing and was the only person not terrified shitless of him.

* * *

_-A_

_Now, now, Alex. Don't be rude. Besides, I kept your secret. Dear Gordon will have to live with his disappointment._

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. He supposed Ross would have a personality conflict with Yassen. The man didn't have to be smug, though. At least Yassen would have his hands full. Probably for at least five months.

* * *

_-C_

_Now, Cossack, that's just mean. Although it serves my purposes, so I'm not going to complain. Did you threaten to disembowel him or something?_

_-A_

* * *

Alex had meant that as a joke. Yassen didn't normally threaten people that much anymore. He figured the man had a terrifying enough reputation that no one would actually irritate him that much. Besides, he honestly didn't mind Ross that much.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes, actually. Goodnight, Alex. I have a student to test._

_-C_

* * *

Alex snapped the phone shut and placed it inside its usual spot on his person just as Ian knocked on the door. "Ready to go home?"

Alex grinned. He'd missed Jack and Fenrir and the rest. "Yep."

It had been nearly half a year since he'd seen them. Tom and Jerry would be about to get out for summer break. Exploring America and dropping a student on Yassen was nice, but he missed his home. Meeting Joe was fun, but he did want to see Tom and Jerry again at some point. Ian would teach Alex how to dodge the authorities at border control, but he honestly thought Alex was decent enough at that without his input (cough, Germany, cough). He was honestly curious about one thing, though. "How do you get around passport control?"

Alex smirked. "Why, do you need lessons?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "No, you brat, I was just curious."

Alex grinned. "Well…First, nobody works that hard to card a kid. Second, I kind of didn't."

Ian gave him the evil eye. "You bought papers without me? I'm hurt."

Alex snorted. "No, I actually made them. It took for-fucking-ever, though."

Ian snorted. "I'll bet. Were they any good?"

Alex gave Ian the evil eye. "Don't be insulting, Ian. You're just sore that I evaded you for two whole weeks."

Ian sighed. "True." Ian lost some of his mirth. "On another note, Jones isn't very happy with you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "And, why, pray tell, not?"

Ian sighed. "This is serious, Alex. The people I work for are dangerous."

Alex was now slightly pissed. "Yes, dangerously lacking in the ethics department."

Ian looked vaguely alarmed. "Alex!"

Alex flashed him an innocent look. "You're not denying it."

Ian sighed. "It's for the greater good."

Alex fired back. "That _I_ don't _believe_ in."

Ian groaned. "I know, just try not to make anyone angry."

Alex kept his voice down but was not happy. "So what? I just lie down and let them do as they please with me?"

Ian looked more sad than angry. "Alex, _please_. There are some people I can't protect you from."

Alex deflated. "That's the point, Ian. I shouldn't need protection from them in the first place." There was a bitter taste in his mouth at those words. It was the truth. It was a quiet way back home.


	28. Home again, on the road again

Alex unpacked his bag after sneaking into the house. He'd gotten home really late and he didn't want Jack to be woken up. Alex put the last article of clothing away before he heard a delighted _woof_ and felt a giant mass of fur and muscle tackle him to the floor. So much for getting in unnoticed. Jack came in a few moments later, looking rather bleary. "Help?"

Jack laughed. "Oh no, you didn't have to deal with the heartbreak and pining. Have fun taking care of your dog."

Alex snorted. "But Jack, I'm pinned to the floor after my long horrid flight."

Jack rolled her eyes. Alex ran his hands through Fenrir's fur. "Fenrir, off."

The wolf got off but didn't leave his side. He hugged Jack. "It's nice to be home."

Jack smiled. Tom and Jerry walked in with bats. "Guys, really? A thief would have gotten away by now."

Tom and Jerry joined in the group hug. Ian walked in wearing a bathrobe. "Why is everybody up at three in the morning?"

Jack snorted. "Who cares?"

Alex shoots Tom a hopeful look. "Blanket fort?"

Tom grinned. "Totally, man."

Ian groaned. "Everybody over the age of-"

Tom cut him off. "Just you, then, nursing home."

Alex started laughing. He couldn't help it. Ian glowered. "I'll have you know, I'm in prime physical condition, thank you very much."

Alex was still struggling to breathe. Jerry and Jack had already gotten the blankets out. Ian rolled his eyes. "At least let me help you make it structurally stable."

Jack smirked. "Are you sure that's the only reason?"

Ian smiled sweetly. "Well, Jack are you sure we shouldn't change your name to Vive?"

Jack scowled. "Low blow, Ian."

Ian grinned. "Well, so was that." The wolf eventually collapsed the fort when it tried to follow Alex in. Nobody cared overmuch, as they were mostly asleep anyway. They all awoke to a doorbell.

* * *

Then more knocking. Then someone walked straight into the living room. Tulip Jones was not often surprised. At the sight of one of her top operatives and his charges in various stages of undress, she turned bright red. "I did knock."

Ian smirked and adjusted the robe so it was actually covering him. "Well, Tulip, we didn't answer."

Crawley walked in. "I am so sorry, sir."

He walked straight out and slammed the door behind him. Shit. This was why he didn't do home visits without due notice. Tulip was a remarkable shade of red. "I'll let you get dressed."

She quickly copied Crawley. Alex just started laughing. At least it wasn't just him. Take that, Rhea. Jack looked mortified. Tom and Jerry just seemed a little shocked. "What on earth is so funny about Ian's uncivilized barbarian bosses barging in on our pajama party?"

Alex grinned. "Nice alliteration, Dr. Seuss. It would take too long to explain properly."

Ian grinned. "Besides the fact that uncivilized and barbarian are redundant, Crawley is my coworker."

Tom grinned. "Are we sure he isn't a creep?"

Jack, Ian, Jerry, and Alex yelled in unison. "Tom!"

Tom just cackled madly. Jack glanced at Alex. "Are we sure it isn't catching?"

Alex grinned. "Well Jack, if it floats like a duck, it's a witch."

Jack rolled her eyes. "I actually got that reference." They all headed up to get dressed. Ten minutes later, everyone was seated at the breakfast table. Crawley was still slightly pink and muttering about forms and due process. Jones was just looking rather stiff and awkward. Jack had treated them to one of her lectures. Alex could barely keep a straight face.

* * *

Alex tried to skulk off with Tom, Jerry, and Jack. Unfortunately, neither Jones nor Crawley was having it. Jones raised an eyebrow. "And where do you think you're going?"

Alex shrugged. "Either walking Fenrir or playing with Tom. I won't be far."

Jones gave him a look that pinned him in place. "Actually, we'd like a word with you to."

Alex felt his stomach drop. Ian looked slightly constipated. Crawley was shooting him apologetic looks. Jones was giving him the look of death. Alex pulled his most angelic look yet. "Me, Mrs. Jones, but I haven't done anything."

He placed just the right amount of anger, annoyance and fear into it. Ian would believe it if he hadn't known Alex's grade for drama was always straight hundreds and that he had played the lead male and female parts for several years. That and he had evidence to the contrary. Jones sighed. "It isn't you, Alex. Yassen Gregorovich was spotted in New York in a park that you were visiting at the same time."

Ian felt a jolt of alarm. "Really?"

Alex looked surprised. Ian couldn't tell if it was the truth or not. Jones looked almost kind. It didn't quite reach her eyes. "Yes, really. We had wondered if he made contact was all."

Alex did he best to look worried. It wasn't hard, since he had quite a bit to worry about. "Sorry, no."

Jones looked relieved. "That's it for you."

Alex tried not to look overly relieved. "Good day, Mrs. Jones."

He walked out and resisted the urge to shower again. It would make him look guilty. Jones remarked as soon as the door closed. "I can't tell if he's lying or not."

Crawley shrugged. "Don't suppose it matters, really, Gregorovich is far too careful to be caught that easy."

Jones looked at both him and Ian, who was ready to protest. "I wouldn't be so sure, Agents."

They both half saluted her. "Ma'am." Jones left.

* * *

Crawley flushed slightly. "Umm, sorry about earlier."

Ian sighed. "It's fine Crawley. I used to be military, remember. Absolutely no privacy there."

Crawley looked relieved. "Can't imagine really. Jones got me straight out of school."

Ian shrugged. "She always was pretty good about that, besides you turned out okay."

Crawley gave him a lopsided grin. "Oh you say that now, but wait until you see the newest recruits. They're sad, Ian. I want to cry just looking at 'em."

Ian snorted. "Don't be absurd, Crawley. All the top agents in MI6 have their tear glands removed. We can't cry."

Crawley chuckled. "Can you believe I actually convinced one of the recruits it was a fact? Of course, he had a few screws loose, anyway."

Ian rolled his eyes. "I swear, they get more gullible every year."

Crawley smirked. "Or we're just old and cynical."

Ian sighed. "I can't believe Jones banned the spread of misinformation. It was awesome."

Crawley laughed. "That was after she banned you from saying two hundred specific things to recruits, Ian. I think she just got tired of dealing with our pranks."

Ian's eyes glinted with amusement. "Oh, but Crawley, that was the fun part of training."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "I think after she had to send four of 'em in for counseling after they all mysteriously developed the belief that paperwork in MI6 is laced with poison, she thought you took it too far."

Ian grinned. "But Crawley…"

The man snorted. "Don't but Crawley me, I was the one who ended up doing their paperwork _and_ the paperwork to send them into psychiatric care." Ian laughed softly. Crawley rolled his eyes. "By the way, you have been totally banned from teaching. Jones seems to think you were the reason half of the class had a psychological break the last time around."

Ian gave Crawley an innocent look. "But I'm innocent."

Crawley laughed. Innocent his effing ass. "Save it for Blunt."

* * *

Jack Starbright was having the time of her life. Alex was finally home again. It was a bright, warm weekend day. The three of them were currently playing with the dog in the backyard while Alex rescued his flower bed. It was a nice time. The dog really wasn't that bad, especially now that she didn't have to feed or walk it. The temperature was bordering on perfect. She also had the chance to get a good look at Alex. She was worried, but he seemed fine. Alex had definitely grown a few inches. He was also slimmer than Tom and more built. He was beginning to form muscle definition, as well. Jack knew that it took a lot of work to do that before a certain age. She supposed it was good that he was fit. At least he wasn't only focused on school work. She wondered what they had been doing together that left him so tan. She felt a stab of envy, knowing that she burned the color of a lobster. She watched as Alex methodically got through the entire bed. Some of the flowers really were quite stunning, when the weeds were cut away. He carefully put the remains of the weeds in a garbage bag and carried it out front himself. It was nice that he was so helpful. Plus, the bags were kind of heavy when they were full of weeds. Alex changed before coming out to play with the dog. Jack wasn't sure why he bothered. Those clothes would get plenty dirty too. The dog seemed to enjoy running with him at any rate. Alex quietly watched Jack from afar while playing with the wolf. When Fenrir caught him and pounced. Jack laughed ecstatically. Alex made sure to burn the moment into his memory forever, her red hair sparkling in the sun and her eyes dancing with mirth. She looked so wonderfully alive like that. It was almost as if death could never touch her. She really was pretty, but definitely his older sister. He'd cheerfully torch the chosen vehicle of any man who broke her heart.

* * *

Alex had started his exploration of London with Fenrir, who seemed delighted that his walks were greatly extended, not that Alex could blame the fur ball. Getting out of the house was nice after a while. Fenrir was now acting oddly. Alex hoped it wasn't another dead body. Jones was already on his case as it was. He was pawing a section of the pavement. Alex really hoped there wasn't another body. "What is it, Fenrir?" The wolf moved aside to let him look. They were in an alleyway that looked like a dead end. It was a trapdoor and not cement at all. "Well, why not go exploring? You'll protect me, right?" The wolf fluffed up indignantly. "Yeah, yeah, I'm going." He switched on a flashlight and opened the trapdoor. He and Fenrir made the descent. Alex soon came to a room with a lock. It looked like an older model, but still pick able. He got out his lock pick set. It didn't look like it belonged to anybody in a long time. Was it trespassing if the owner was long-dead? Alex didn't think so. The lock took a surprising amount of effort to break, but he got it eventually. Beneath that door was a combination lock. Alex wondered what on Earth required that much security. Fortunately, Alex could break this one, too. It was at least twenty to fifty years old. Alex cleared the dust of the nearby wall and he saw a universally recognized symbol. The swastika and the eagle. This belonged to the Nazis. "I swear Fenrir, you're as bad as I am." Alex tried Hitler's ascension date just for shits and giggles. He was surprised it actually worked. Honestly, they had almost lost to these guys? "If it's full of Hitler clones, I reserve the right to go ballistic." With that, he yanked the heavy iron door open. Did he mention this place was creepy? And full of dust and spiders? It took a couple of yanks for the door to open wide enough to let him through.

The inside instantly lit up. Alex was surprised that electric lights were that advanced back then. The inside was eerily clean, funnily enough. Alex had always imagined the Nazis lived in dark dirty holes somewhere. Then he saw the inscription. Cleanliness is next to godliness. It was a poster depicting racial purity. Alex wasn't sure whether the ignorance or the hate-mongering behind that propaganda was more disgusting. He made a mental note to burn every poster he saw. Historical value or no, he personally felt that any regime that murdered innocent children should be eradicated in every form. Fenrir went ahead of him as he slowly walked through the well-preserved bunker. He wondered what happened to the people in it. The machines hadn't even rusted. The door shut automatically behind him, but Alex wasn't too worried since it had some obvious controls on it. Alex had thought there were only airstrikes on Britain, so how did this place exist? It was possible someone had lied about that, but why not have it come out after the war? Unless this had been created afterward, like the Manhattan project, only the Nazis didn't have to give up their ideology. "What is this place?" A faint buzzing sounded around Alex. He wondered if it wasn't some sort of security system. He walked past the propaganda plastered foyer into the next room. It was a massive computer. "Hello?" Someone had to have turned it on. There was no voice-activated technology in WW2. He walked up to the computer screen. It was in German, of course. Fortunately, Alex was fluent. It translated fairly well.

* * *

New user?

Y/N

* * *

Alex hit the enter key after selecting Yes. A section of the screen lit up green. It was about the size of a hand. Alex was pretty sure they didn't have anything this advanced in the forties.

* * *

Authorize prints?

Y/N

* * *

Alex was eerily reminded of Winston Yu and his bomb. He pressed his right hand against the scanner and hit Yes again. Why was it always him?

* * *

Initializing systems…Please wait

* * *

Alex waited. Fenrir returned to his side. He was genuinely curious as to what would show up. Besides, he wasn't really sure what to do with the place. Ignore it? Seemed like a waste. Turning it into the government seemed like a bad idea, particularly with Jones already on his case as it was. Telling Ian would just get him a lecture and he wasn't sure anyone else would have a use for it. Alex touched his phone, still watching the computer boot up. He figured it would take a while considering the age of the system and the time it had been off. Alex weighed the option of telling Antonio. It was a risk. There was also the fact that Alex considered the place sort of his. Finders keepers, right? Besides, he might end up sending some of his people and with Ian around, it would get really messy really fast. There was a chance this place was empty, but Alex personally doubted it. He wondered if the massive thing was going to finish starting up anytime soon. It was kind of eerie down here. Plus, he had no idea what the size of the place was and the last thing he wanted was to get lost forever in a creepy old (most likely) Nazi base that shouldn't exist if the history books were telling the truth.

* * *

Error: Power Outages in the North Sector

Error: Wiring Decay in the East Sector

Error: Lighting out in Medical Wing 3

Print map with Areas highlighted? Y/N

* * *

Alex figured the computer was pretty advanced if it could tell him what was wrong like that. Maybe even more advanced than some of the modern technology. Just who had built this place? He went ahead and hit yes. What could possibly go wrong when repairing old and strangely advanced technology? He'd brought his toolkit and hopefully, the breaker boxes would be in nice, convenient places conducive to repairs. Fenrir stayed by his side as Alex made his way to the medical wing which was the closest. From what he could tell, He'd entered on the west side. There were four sectors and a medical wing. The shape was rather like a bunch of interconnected circular blobs. From what he could tell, there were two underground levels. Surprisingly, there were a lot of amenities. He walked into medical wing. The lightbulbs looked pretty standard to him. He'd have to get them somewhere. Medical wing one and two looked decently like what Alex was used to in modern hospitals, but he supposed that not much had changed, besides a bit of machinery and knowledge in medicine. It had only been a few decades. He turned his flashlight on for the third wing. It looked pretty standard, but there was an office door as you got to the end of the rows of beds. The doctor's literal office? Alex cautiously opened the door. At first glance, it was ordinary. Then, he opened the filing cabinet. It was full of files and files of what looked like patients. The second and third drawers were what made it unusual. There were experiments. Alex felt nauseous just looking at them. As Alex opened the third drawer, he wasn't sure he wanted to know what was in it. It looked like a bunch of ordinary flash drives for computers. Perhaps he wasn't the first person here? Flash drives hadn't been invented in the '50's - everyone knew that. It would make more sense. But who? And why? And was this place really just abandoned? The desk had a human skull on it. Alex was so done. He decided the bookshelves could wait.

* * *

Alex figured he could take them home and look at them later. He put them in the backpack. He walked out of the office, still slightly shaken by the files and the human skull. Who the _hell_ kept an _actual_ skull in their office? It was just a little odd. He decided to check out the east sector first. What could be the cause of the wiring decay? When Alex got to the edge of the sector, he felt Fenrir tense. There was a sort of chattering noise in the background. It sounded like rats. Just wonderful. Suddenly, Fenrir let out a large bark and lunged. Alex hit the light switch before checking on his dog. Apparently, one of Fenrir's uses was hunting ginormous disgusting rats. Seriously, it was one of the largest and grossest things he'd ever seen. Fenrir dropped the dead rat at his feet and looked at him hopefully. Alex was trying and failing to feel compassion for the animals. "Oh, go on then." Fenrir let out a happy, bellowing bark and took off down the corridor. The barks echoed off the walls. Alex did his best to ignore the sound of multiple rats having their necks broken. At least he knew what the wiring problem was. This was going to be a pain to clean up. Blood took forever to get off floor tiles. Fenrir came back a few minutes later and dropped a ton of dead rats in a heap at his feet. The urge to gag was nearly uncontrollable. Alex checked the map and noticed that there was a garbage chute nearby. He found it and pulled it open. The note on the front said it went to the sewer. "Can you put them in here?" The wolf started picking up a carrying them to the chute.

* * *

After leaving a giant (literally bloody) mess all over the floor, Alex decided it was time to go to the north sector. He hoped there were no more rats. Fenrir was cheerfully walking along his side. The wolf _was_ meant for hunting he supposed. Still, it was kind of gross. The north sector was dark and cold, but at least the breaker box was easy to spot. Alex flipped the switch and wondered why it had to be manually turned on separate from the main computer (he assumed it was the main computer). Alex checked his watch and discovered he'd spent nearly three hours in the creepfest. Oops. He did a quick run through of the north sector and practically ran back to the exit. The south sector would have to wait another day, as would all the other stuff. There was also a whole other floor to explore. It reminded him more of the basement in his house. Alex glanced at his watch again. Ian and Jack were going to kill him. At least he had an excuse ready (Fenrir was still covered in blood). Alex literally ran home and straight into Ian. "Sorry."

Ian just looked at him funny. "Who did the dog murder?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Fenrir decided that hunting sewer rats would be fun."

Ian just groaned. "I was about to call the police."

Alex was actually sorry. "Sorry, I was chasing after him. Plus, the police would make you wait twenty-four hours."

Ian sighed. He was tempted to swear at Alex, he really was. Starbright would murder him in his sleep. "You get to wash him."

Alex snorted. "Like I don't already."

He decided to change topics before Ian got to suspicious. "So when's the Lame-o family reunion in the war-torn shithole?"

Ian groaned. "You just had to remind me. It's in two months."

Jack happened to overhear them. "I'm sorry, did Alex just say war-torn area?"

Alex knew it was time to disappear up the stairs. He got to his room just in time to hear Jack scream. "YOU KEPT THE KNOWLEDGE OF HIS OTHER FAMILY IN AFGHANISTAN FROM HIM!"

Ian replied with something Alex couldn't make out. He shut the door and sighed. His life was messed up sometimes.

* * *

Tom and Jerry came into his room. "Sorry man, your situation with the family sounds bad."

Alex grimaced. "It could end up going well."

Alex figured Ian probably had a good reason for hiding him from the family this long. Jerry frowned. "If he kept them apart this long, who knows? At least the arguments here happen for a good reason."

It was a reference to their parents. "It's fine, guys."

Tom snorted. "I don't think you know the meaning of the word, Al."

Alex sighed. "What else can it be? Even if I wasn't fine, there isn't anything I can do to help the situation."

Jerry looked oddly pensive. "Just because you love your family and they love you doesn't mean it's healthy, you know."

Tom looks at his brother in surprise. "What do you mean?"

Jerry looked slightly pinched. "Look, our parents were shit, man. I'm glad we got out of there. Your family obviously loves you, but you guys have problems. I'm sorry, but your uncle is in no way mentally healthy, let alone in a state to take care of you. Jack is nice enough, but ultimately powerless in terms of custody. You sleep way too little for it to be normal and God knows what is up with those other family members. Also, your uncle's coworkers are some real creeps. Who likes talking to kids that much? Also, why is nobody calling the police when you're getting stalked by a terrorist?!"

Jerry was not normally this intense. Alex sighed. "It's complicated, Jerry."

The man looks at him. "Just promise me one thing."

Alex looked Jerry in the eyes. "Yes, Jerry?"

Jerry's expression hardens. "If it becomes too much, if this is toxic, get out and don't come back. Please Alex, run if it is too much."

Alex knew he might not keep that promise. There were too many questions he wanted answered. "I promise, Jerry." Alex knew he might break it one day.

* * *

Jerry left. Tom came up to him and pulled him close. "Sorry, man, he gets like that sometimes. We were both worried about you."

Alex remembered Tom was only eleven this time and not nearly as outgoing. "You don't need to worry about me, Tom."

Tom laughed softly. "I'm your friend, Alex, it's my job to worry about you."

Alex pulled him in tighter. "It's fine, Tom."

The boy laughs softly, his breath ghosting Alex's neck. "Alex, you'd tell me that if the world was on fire and the floor was melting beneath our feet."

Alex rubbed Tom's back. "It's a character flaw."

He whispers with a soft grin, gently laying his cheek against Tom's hair. He felt rather than saw Tom's lips upturn. "My favorite one of yours, actually. That and your white knight complex."

Alex's grin turned shit-eating. "Aw, so is this when we kiss and make-up?"

Tom shoves him lightly off. "No, you perv. That was a platonic bro-hug."

Alex keeps grinning. "You know you want me."

Tom rolls his eyes. "Like a broken foot and in your dreams."

Alex just laughs and so does Tom. "Need a hand with your dog, Al?"

Alex shrugged. "You can help if you want. Fair warning, there will be a giant mess and both of us will get soaked."

Tom grinned. "When do we start?"

Alex grabbed the shampoo for the dog and the rest of the grooming tools. "Now."

Predictably, they both ended up soaking wet and covered in suds. "You do this every week?"

Alex grinned. "Yep, sometimes more. Wasn't that fun Tom?"

Tom threw one of the brushes at Alex. Fenrir caught it before it got anywhere near him. "Damn dog. It loves you the most."

Alex smirked. "I'm just that charming."

Tom snorted. "Charming people into being homicidal, maybe."

Alex just rolled his eyes. "Go change, Tom. Jack won't appreciate puddles in the kitchen." Tom left.

* * *

Ian got up early the next day to go into work. While it was a relief that the wolf hadn't killed anyone, Ian couldn't help being suspicious. Why was Alex in areas with that many rats in the first place? He was pretty sure it was below ground because if there were that many rats above ground there would have been public outcry by now. He sighed as he put on a suit. Sometimes he wondered if he wasn't being overly interfering, but then, there was Gregorovich to consider. Also, adding in the fact that Alex could not stay out of trouble if his life depended on it. Ian wondered if he wouldn't have done better to raise Alex more normally. The incident when he was seven had resulted in the addition of Jack Starbright and confirmed his fears that Alex would not be kept out of his world entirely. Ian figured he'd done well to teach Alex. At the same time, Alex now had attention from some very unsavory sources. There was also the fact that his nephew had begun to run his own operations. Ian was not blind to the fact that Alex was an operator, albeit on a very irregular and comparatively low-radar basis. Then again, could Yassen really be considered off the radar? Ian supposed he'd just have to wait and see. He got the feeling that Alex was planning something. Something big. And explosive. Ian just hoped he didn't get shot for it. He would do his best to shield Alex, but there were some things and people he couldn't go against. His thoughts turned to his report as he walked in.

* * *

He was greeted by Crawley. Not a surprise really. Ian always thought the lobby looked rather empty for a bank, but he didn't dare mention it to Jones. She might get offended. She and Blunt had designed the front for the 'bank'. It wasn't meant to fool operators, so he supposed it was fine. "The heads want you upstairs."

Ian shrugged. That wasn't a surprise either. "You coming for this?"

Crawley shrugged. "My clearance is technically high enough."

Ian raised an eyebrow. It had been a while since he'd been on a black op. Technically, all of his missions were off-the-books, but this was extra off-the-books. "Basically, no."

Crawley shrugged. "Baxter's there, too, if that helps."

Ian mentally groaned. The deputy head of Black Operations? This was going to be a cluster fuck. He opened the door to Blunt's office and Crawley left as the door shut. The office had four people. It was Jones, Blunt, Baxter, and a man he didn't recognized. The man was about average height, with average brown hair and average brown eyes. The only thing Ian could really say about him is that he looked exceptionally average, like Crawley usually did. "Who is this?"

Ian figured he may as well try to assess the situation. "I'm Gregory Gregson, chief analyst for MI6 Blacks Operations."

Ian had to try very hard to bite back the commentary. He'd been spending too much time with Alex, he supposed. Not that there was such a thing. "Okay. Why are we assembled here on this fine day?"

Ian was naturally sarcastic. The other four tactfully ignored him. "The head of Black Operations is a problem. I'm sure, as experienced operative, you noticed he isn't present."

Ian was careful not to react. "It's been going on for a while, yeah. What changed?"

Gregson plopped a ginormous file on the desk. "In a word, SCORPIA."

Ian wondered when they were going to get the point. "We can no longer afford such a weak leader in light of their recent growth and rapid spread."

Ian sighed. "So why am I here? Last I checked, you'd have about as many volunteers as agents for a shooter."

* * *

Gregson stepped forward and continued. "Therein lies the problem. Despite his incompetence, our director retains political allies - we suspect nepotism and bribes play a role."

Ian sighed. He hated politicians. "So why aren't you calling MI5?"

This was their jurisdiction. "We want an expedited and internal solution to avoid a scandal."

Of course they did. It was just Ian's luck. "Why not call in contractors, then?"

Again, Ian was NOT an assassin. His specialty was intelligence for god's sake. "We're still blacklisted on most lists due to our stunt with SCORPIA."

Ian mentally screamed. He'd forgotten the vindictive little shits did that, truth be told. They still had five months until it lifted, too. He noticed the uptick in killing, sure, but he figured it was just them being cheap again. "Where is he?"

Depending on where it was, he may or may not take Alex for this. "Argentina."

Ian resisted a swear word or two. "Why?"

Gregson sighed. "Officially, he's inspecting the base. Unofficially, it's recreational."

Ian muttered under his breath. "Of course it is."

Baxter snorted. "I told you we should have just poisoned him before he was elected by the committee."

Jones looked snappy. "Because that is _so_ helpful now."

Ian decided to interject before there was open warfare between the two branches. "Right, so how much do we know and when do I leave?"

He wasn't going to take Alex on this. It was almost pure politics. Not to mention, Alex had a low enough opinion of his job as it was. "In a week. Your files stay here."

Ian looked at Jones. "The usual and protection for my house, yeah?"

Jones sighed. "Of course, Ian."

Ian shrugged. "I'm out. Have fun politicking." He barely resisted slamming the door.

* * *

Damn, he hated the assassination assignments. Why was it always him? He decided to stalk off to Crawley's office. He plopped himself down in one of Crawley's brand new office chairs (courtesy of him). The door snapped shut behind him. "You're an interfering shit, you know that." It was Crawley. There was no actual bite to the words.

"Music to my ears, Crawley, music to my ears." Ian states with a smirk.

"Fuck you." Ian lets out a mock gasp and clutches his chest.

"Crawley, we just had that sexual harassment training! Didn't you hear the consent portion?" Crawley snorts. Ian goes back to smirking.

"Besides, it'd be the other way around." Crawley rolls his eyes.

"Moving on to the reason you decided to occupy my office in the fashion of an overbearing panther." Ian sits up.

"The demons are sending me on _another_ assassination." Crawley sighed. He knew Ian had actual issues aside from the joking. Plus, the man adamantly refused anything besides the mandatory psych evals.

"You are good at it. Besides, they usually send you after the really evil fuckers." Ian was ador- Crawley cut off the line of thought. The man was huffy for a reason, now to drag it out of him.

"It's the head of MI6 Black Operations." Ah, the political/incompetence kill, usually reserved for the criminal element.

"The dumb-ass who let the mutants escape into the wild _before_ they were sterilized and got a whole bunch of people killed? It's not a loss Ian." Ian's smile left his face.

"Crawley my family-" Crawley cut him off.

"I'll personally ensure their safety." Ian looked worried.

"Crawley-" Crawley cut him off and stepped toward him.

"You're just doing your job, mate, it's fine." Ian was now looking at him with big brown eyes.

"What will people think of me?" Crawley pulled him into a hug (the door was locked).

"If they're smart, they'll think you're a good agent." Ian was quietly returning the hug for a while.

* * *

Unfortunately, the Jones chose the exact moment Ian calmed down to barge in. "Crawley, how many times do I have to tell you not to use your door lock?!"

Jones saw them jump apart. "I'm so sorry."

She turned pink and hightailed it out of there. Crawley groans. "Here come the office rumors."

Ian snorted. "We were fully clothed."

Crawley snorted. "See if that stops anyone from believing it."

Ian shrugged. "I don't much care about those sorts of rumors." Ian grinned. "Or you could move in and we could give them something real to talk about."

Crawley cuffed his coworker. "You are _not_ funny."

Ian smirked. "No, I'm hilarious."

Crawley felt like banging his head against the wall. On the other hand, this was a good opportunity. "Actually, I think we could do it."

Ian grinned. "Getting lonely in your old age?"

Crawley rolled his eyes. "We're the same age, Ian." Crawley let out a smirk of his own. "We could even make it permanent, just to confuse Jones."

Ian was having way too much fun with this idea. "I'll ask the family. Cheers." Ian sauntered out. Crawley was just glad he made Ian's day. Besides, how bad could two adults, two kids, and a dog be (aside from Ian)? The house the man bought had been ginormous for some reason. It was coming in handy right now, he supposed. Ian was actually in a good mood when he went back to his office and started reading the files. He'd memorize them in the next couple days. He was sure no one would mind their newest addition. Crawley could even tutor Alex while he was away, when Alex wasn't doing independent study. Jones walked into his office. "I was wondering…"

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Yes, boss."

Jones sighed. "Are you an agent Crawley involved?"

Ian gave her his trademark _innocent_ smile. "We're just friends ma'am."

Her ass, was her first thought. "Friends who are planning on moving in together. You _do_ know don't ask, don't tell doesn't apply to you, right?"

Ian gave her his best indignant look. "Good day, ma'am." Ian grinned after she shut the door. He was going to bet that it would be around the office soon enough. Ian loved pulling this stuff with Crawley.

* * *

Crawley printed out the OSA's. With two agents and mini, there was bound to be a slip-up at some point. It was best to have those three informed of a few facts. Besides, mini was being stalked by an assassin. Three watchers was better than one. Ian pulled into the driveway. Well, this would be interesting. "Family meeting in five!"

They all sit at the table. The wolf is, predictably, next to Alex. Ian explained the situation to the four of them. It was met with varying levels of skepticism. Jack had the look on her face. "So let me get this straight. You want your coworker to move in to prank your boss and it's permanent."

Ian smiled. "Exactly."

Jerry starts up. "We're fine with whomever you want to live with Ian, so long as they're nice to you."

Alex was carefully restraining a laugh. He didn't really care if Ian and Crawley were together, but this was awesome. Fortunately, Tom piped up (he wasn't subtle at all). "You know, nobody here cares if you're gay, right? 'Cause you're still awesome."

Alex fought to keep a straight face. Ian decided to give up on convincing them, it was clearly a lost cause. "Alright, voting time. Since this affects all of you, I think you should have a vote, particularly Jack."

It was a unanimous yes. Ian wasn't surprised. "Alex my office after dinner. You're not in trouble."

The dinner was passed cheerfully. Alex went upstairs to join Ian. Ian looked tense. "You don't mind, do you?"

Alex laughed. "No, Ian. Of all the things…" Alex shrugged. "It doesn't really matter, Ian. Even if you and Crawley do end up together, you're still Ian. You're still the man who taught me everything important in life and the person who raised me. I love you no matter what."

Ian looked oddly vulnerable. "Even if I kill people?"

Alex shrugged. "Even then. Besides, I can't really talk, now can I?"

Ian had almost forgotten Alex shot someone for him. He suddenly hugged Alex. "I love you too, Alex. Always." Alex felt like he was in a dream. He drifted back to his room.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was surprisingly pleased with his pupil. He hadn't expected to be able to put up with anybody except Alex. Rhea was more like him, if he was being honest. Her medical scans had come back clean and the scars were entirely superficial, if rather recognizable. SCORPIA taught disguises and Nile had a similarly recognizable condition. It would be a minor issue. Rhea had absolutely no morals and an excellent work ethic. Perhaps Alex had a future in human resources. Yassen doubted he would take that comment from him with any grace, so he kept his mouth shut. This was much better than any adult student. He would send Alex something nice when he got the chance. This really wasn't all that bad, although he was aware that his student retained some compromising feelings towards the boy. It would be hypocritical of him to criticize her, but he supposed he should try to prevent the inevitable disappointment. "Rhea, you must understand something about Alec."

He saw no reason to give her Alex's real name either. "Yes?"

Yassen was said to have no tact. "Boys like Alec don't go for girls like you. He will most likely marry some nice, normal girl."

Rhea shrugs. "I know. It doesn't really change things does it?"

Yassen smiled humorlessly. "I suppose not."

Rhea sighed. "Does it get any easier?"

Cossack shrugged. "You might have a chance at girlfriend or mistress, but in the end I suppose it is up to you. It is both easier and harder that way."

Rhea sighs. "Can we do the sniper rifles again?" Cossack figured the practice wouldn't hurt either of them.


	29. The family, the Letter, and the Ill-advised Thief

Crawley was surprised at the speed at which everybody adapted to him being there. He didn't much like the family 'dog', but mini seemed to have it under control. The housekeeper seemed nice enough and the children (Jerry was still in school) were all relatively well-behaved if wise-cracking. Crawley was more surprised by the degree of freedom Alex got and what he did with it. The kid was surprisingly dedicated to his studies and daily exercise. Crawley wasn't sure where Ian and Alex vanished off to inside the house, but he wasn't one to pry. He supposed he could help with the languages. Crawley was tempted to just treat him like one of their fresh recruits. He suspected any curriculum Ian came up with was far more stringent than what they taught to people, anyway. Alex was oddly observant, but he could safely say it ran in the family. "Ian's leaving soon, isn't he?" That went straight from observant to mind-reading.

"Well...uh...yeah." The kid sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I'm eleven, not stupid, you know." Crawley shrugged.

"Fair. I suppose I can help you if you want. Why aren't you in school, anyway?" Alex plopped himself down in the chair next to his nightstand.

"Ian said it wasn't challenging enough for me. I'm actually at a college level, you know." Well, he could safely say the kid wasn't lacking in the brains department. Self-preservation on the other hand…

"Shouldn't you have known better than to take the wolf home, then? It wasn't meant to be a pet, you know." Alex rolled his eyes.

"Don't be melodramatic, Crawley. Besides, Ian already gave me the lecture." Crawley knew who his next charge would be in the intelligence agency. He'd swear that Alex was Ian's clone in that moment. The kid walked out. _Don't be melodramatic, Crawley. Besides, Jones already gave me the lecture._ Crawley groaned at the memory. Those two were _definitely_ related.

* * *

Alex strolled down the hall after the conversation with Crawley. He'd suspected Ian would be leaving soon since he was at work more often. He went to the door to get the mail (he got it every morning and left neat little piles for everyone to find). Alex had started this up ever since Sarov and Yassen started mailing him stuff. Plus, Ian was at work and Jack was walking Tom and Jerry to school. Alex raised an eyebrow in surprise when he realized he had four separate pieces of mail. From three different people. He took it up to his room just in case someone decided to come down to the kitchen. There was a letter and a package from Sarov. He opened and read the letter first. Then, he cut open the package. It was full of Russian books on the history of Russia and battle strategy. The man apparently knew them by heart and had no use for them. At least it was a practical gift. The next one was a large envelope from Antonio. The man seemed to feel the need to keep him updated on the spread of his empire/business. It also had a book on the economics of running businesses of varying sizes. It also had a letter from Miguel. The boy seemed fairly friendly, but Alex was sort of touched and creeped-out that the boy cared enough to send him a letter. It wasn't a love letter or anything, so he figured it was safe to reply. He was pretty sure the last one was from Yassen, though it could have been sent by anyone. It was the most anonymous of the four. Alex cut it open and snorted at the contents after he examined them. One was a guide to basic medicine. The note read: Something tells me you might have a need for this. The second book was a guide for diplomacy and avoiding dangerous situations, apparently, his mouth could get him into trouble. The third and last book was actually fun. It was a guide to improvisational warfare, guerrilla tactics, and improvised weaponry. It also had a disguise section. He wondered why Gordon Ross didn't have that little gem of 'light' reading added to his curriculum. I mean his readings for the class were already a couple thousand pages long. Aside from that, this looked much more fun. Although, Alex couldn't really think of any situation that required a flame-throwing hairdryer, let alone three different designs of one.

It was probably the fact that SCORPIA had plenty of weapons for their assassins and no need for that sort of thing, but Alex personally thought it was a shame the class had been discontinued. Really, he figured he'd be reading that one in his spare time first. It wasn't that the other books weren't important, but Alex thought this one was just more awesome. He grinned and penned replies to all his letters (minus Yassen, he just sent a text), before sealing the envelopes and putting them in his backpack. He kept one for his afternoon runs with Fenrir. Ever since they found a dead body together, he figured it was better safe than sorry. He kept enough survival supplies in there to where if he had to run, he would be OK. He started on his newest read and interspersed it with his studies of the languages Pashto, Dari, Mandarin. He wondered if it would be enough. Somehow, he had a bad feeling about the upcoming family reunion. It could be his senses going haywire, but he personally doubted it. Besides, why else would Ian keep them apart? Alex doubted that Ian was possessive enough to keep them apart just because, but he had been wrong before about people. It was rare, but it happened. At just before noon, there were three soft knocks on the door. Alex was on alert. Jack was home. Crawley and Ian weren't due back for hours. Alex sighed and hid his book before answering the door. It was Alan Blunt. Alex bit back what he wanted to say and reluctantly let the man in. "Can I help you?" Alex barely resisted sarcasm.

* * *

Alex figured the SCORPIA approach was best for this. Smile politely while stabbing them in the back and poisoning them for good measure. Blunt sat down and took the tea without milk or sugar. "As I recall, you're one of the busiest men on the planet. My uncle is your employee, but your house visit seems _unorthodox._ " It was the polite and diplomatic version of _get the hell out of my house._

"It is." The gray man was as expressionless as ever. Alex sat in silence and resisted the urge to poison the teapot. He silently repeated the penalties for murder in his head. It wasn't helping much. The man's stare was as creepy and expressionless as ever. Alex felt as though he were under a microscope.

"For an eleven-year-old, you cause an unholy amount of trouble." Alex wasn't in the mood.

"For a head of MI6, you are strikingly unsubtle." Blunt didn't react to the jab. Alex didn't expect him to. Blunt pinned him with another stare. He refused to squirm and chose to glare at the man.

"Subtlety is only so useful. Aside from that, you are intelligent enough to see through it and defiant enough to react adversely." Was _Alan Blunt_ trying to teach him something?

"Touché." His incredulity must have shown because Blunt didn't show any emotion, but Alex got the feeling he might be vaguely amused.

"We _are_ the lesser of two evils, Alex." Alex raised an eyebrow.

"Are you really?" He knew that, but he was trying to get a rise out of the man. The man didn't react.

"What _are_ you here for?" Blunt continued staring.

"Observation." Alex was about to snap at the man.

"What could _possibly_ be a matter of state in this household?"

Interfering bastard. Blunt regarded him, but the gaze turned slightly more thoughtful. "A good many things, I'm sure. Especially, if I were to search the place, hmm?" Fuck you, Blunt. At the same time, he refused to be a pawn or cower under threat to this man.

"You should be careful where and what you search, Blunt." At this Fenrir joined his side. Alex's eyes blazed with a quiet rage.

"After all, you might find that you bit off more than you could chew. You _have_ been wrong before, I'm sure." The man didn't react to the thinly veiled threat or the taunt. Alex was sure he got a lot of them, though probably not from eleven-year-olds.

"And you should be more careful as well. After all, international assassins can be _quite_ deadly." Alex would be more impressed with the threat if he didn't know for a fact Yassen would avenge him. Not to mention Ian.

"So I've heard." Ian was _so_ going to kill him. Alex didn't really care at the moment. He should probably mention this to Yassen, just to be safe.

"Is there anything else you wanted?" Alex asked though he didn't much care. Unbeknownst to him, he was imitating Ian's tone when he was pissed off. Blunt was as blank as ever.

"Not particularly and not now." Alex grit his teeth. He didn't want Ian to suffer because he couldn't stand Alan Blunt. The man might just be petty enough to do it, too.

"Then perhaps you should go. Another few people in that lobby might make your ruse more legitimate." Alex couldn't really resist the jab, even though it was _such_ a bad idea. Blunt's facial expression was now weird. It took Alex a minute to realize the man was amused by something.

"I said the same thing to Mrs. Jones and she called me a paranoid lunatic." Alex resisted telling him that Jones had a point. His expression was back to its' usual blank slate. "Good day, Mr. Rider." Alex stayed silent. The man got up and left as soundlessly as he entered. Alex slammed the door shut behind him. Well, that was creepy.

* * *

Alex went down to the basement. Everyone was outside of the house except Fenrir. Only Ian knew of the basement. Alex descended in the elevator on his own. He had the flash drive. Alex booted up one of the older computers they had in the basement that wasn't connected to any of their devices. It was a 'blank'. Meaning it had nothing on it and was disposable. Alex waited for it to boot up and toyed with the flash drives. He stuck the one with the earliest date on it in first. Someone had helpfully labeled all of them. Surprisingly, it had footage, though it was black and white. There was a scientist in a lab coat. Alex pushed play. The footage looked original and like it had been taken with some really old-school equipment and later transferred.

* * *

"I am Dr. Alastair Allen, head of this division of CBDE. We are looking into the research conducted by the Nazis under a strict secrecy order. The base was built to look like a Nazi bunker to throw off investigators. After all, any Nazi bunker in England has to be a hoax, does it not? I made these tapes in hope that someone, anyone would use our research for the greater good. I only agreed to this project to stop the atrocities that would occur if this were run only by the intelligence forces. Some of the things we were asked to look into are beyond unethical…"

* * *

Alex watched until the end of the tape. He wished he could say he was surprised. Some of it looked pretty harmless, like medical stuff. Some of it was closer to something SCORPIA would do. The doctor seemed a little optimistic for Alex's taste, but it was the beginning of the story. Alex hoped nothing bad happened to him, but judging from the time period it would be too late to help even if something did. Alex put in the second drive. They didn't seem to hold a lot of memory, but having the video diary of the scientist was kind of spectacular. By the third or fourth tape, the doctor (who was rising in Alex's estimation) was visibly horrified by his own research. The man described the conflict in his love for science and the fact that this was a perversion of what was meant to be ethical research. Apparently, the man's complaints and petitions fell on deaf ears (within the department, nothing was allowed outside 'interference' without authorization). Most of them ended up describing experiments or theories that were slightly beyond Alex. Alex decided to skip to the last one (there were dozens of them). He wondered what had happened to the man, and he could always catch up on the science later.

* * *

"I am Dr. Alastair Allen and I have been the head of the black operations research facility for twelve years…..

Some days, I wonder whether it was worth it. My family died in an accident I suspect was planned. I fully committed to my research, but now… No more. We are being shut down after I sent a fraction of evidence to a government worker. I fully expect to die very soon, but I leave these tapes in hopes that one day the atrocities committed in the name of research and security would be known. I regret ever allowing it to go as far as it did. Use them, learn from my mistakes. Above all, never trust anyone with the secrets you now possess. Many would kill to possess these as either blackmail or research. Also, upload this to the mainframe computer. The reason the videos are so short is that these drives contain a second, hidden program, which will activate a completely new purpose for the mainframe. My finest work in programming and intelligence networking lies within. In short, I am giving you my brainchild. Goodbye and good luck."

* * *

Well, that was unexpected. Alex could safely say he hadn't been this surprised in years. Although, if what the man was implying was true… Artificial intelligence was real. He wondered what the purpose of it was. He had no doubt that the man died in some sort of horrible 'accident', particularly since this was during and perhaps shortly after it. Alex decided to look it up later. Alex carefully removed the flash drive and stuck them all back in his backpack before clearing the computer of its download history. Useful, that. He really should send Smithers a thank you note. He wondered if he hadn't gone a little overboard during his conversation with Blunt. Alex wondered if it would come up with Ian or if Blunt would conveniently forget to tell him. No matter, Alex would bring it up with Ian. Just in case, he decided to make a file with the dear doctor's videos to send to everybody in the event he died unexpectedly. He decided to not tell Yassen about this. He'd have enough lectures on impulse control as it was. Alex knew for a fact that Ian had recording devices in the living room and for once he was thankful his uncle was horrifically paranoid. He downloaded a tape of the conversation onto a new separate flash drive, with his own recording afterward to show his reaction (he may have played up his age a bit, but the whole point of a burn video was to make the other guy look as bad as possible). If Alan Blunt decided to kill him after about two days from now, he'd have the whole world asking for blood. _I knew I did a good job picking you, you devious shit._ Death actually sounded affectionate. Thanks? _It was a compliment. Credit where credit is due, my dear Lexi._ Death, I have school work. _Cheers. I have to run, you just complicated my paperwork._ You run? _Glide is more accurate._ Alex sighed and went back to his schoolwork.

* * *

Alex spent a few days with his 'insurance policy' before Crawley started getting suspicious. Not that anyone knew about it. It was specifically set to go out when either his death certificate went through or he went missing for more than six months. He wasn't really sure about activating the computer's other unknown functions, but his curiosity was beginning to overwhelm his common sense. What harm could a computer program that was written by a scientist who had an actual moral compass (as far as he could tell) do? Crawley was standing in the doorway when he went out to 'walk the dog'. In his defense, Fenrir got plenty of exercise when they went exploring together. "I'm coming with you and Scooby." Alex snorted.

"You sure? The exercise might be a bit brutal." Damn, he couldn't go to his base today. Oh well, there were plenty of other things to do. He could check out bars (from the outside). There were plenty of street gangs to observe (knowing who would sell firearms was always nice).

"I'm not _that_ old." Alex shrugged. Crawley wondered if Alex was normally this quiet or just super awkward around acquaintances. As he and the 'dog' walked Crawley couldn't help but feel apprehensive.

"Are you mad at me or something?" In his defense, most people never shut up.

"Not all. I just prefer not to talk a lot." Crawley sighed. It was his problem. Silence reminded him of his work a little too much. Then again, Alex had never demonstrated anything less than perfect manners during the lessons he was helping the kid out with (after dinner, he had a job _and_ Ian's paperwork to deal with). He supposed he believed the kid. Maybe they could bring the chatterbox next time? That Tom kid could really talk. Incessantly. On second thought, he liked Alex just fine like this.

* * *

'Rusty', as he was known on the street, was house monitoring. More precisely, he was looking for a house to steal from. He figured it would be an easy target. The other guy was gone and the house was frequently unoccupied or only partially occupied. On the other hand, a lot of people lived there. Maybe a holdup would be best? Maybe not. But then, he was called Rusty for a reason. His red hair and his lack of skill. Rusty had been to jail a grand total of thirty times for petty theft. Most hadn't resulted in a conviction, mainly because it was more money to prosecute him for the people he stole from than said item was worth. Needless to say, he was considered one of the local pests by law enforcement. Most of them seemed to take a vindictive glee in cuffing him and shoving him into the back of their car. At any rate, he was watching. Since the house looked empty, he decided to go for it. He didn't really want to have to try with the really big dog inside. He sighed as he prepared to break the lock. He personally preferred the windows, but it was risky unless you were about to leave. Breaking glass was one of his favorite parts of the robbery, albeit not the most subtle. Unfortunately for 'Rusty', one of the neighbors who couldn't mind their own business to save their life spotted him obviously breaking in. In a fit of civic concern, she texted the nice young boy who lived there. She didn't think to call the police, but she did warn Alex. Such a nice boy, so polite and serious. She'd even watched him tend to the gardens. That family kept to themselves, she knew. She hoped he wasn't in the house. The neighbor decided to get some tea to soothe her suddenly dry mouth and pray he wasn't in the house.

* * *

Alex was surprised to say the least when his neighbor texted him about a robbery in progress. Then again, the lady really couldn't quit 'spying' on them. Alex suspected she was in dire need of a new hobby or a pet. At least it came in handy this time around. "Hey Crawley, let's head back now." Alex couldn't really think of a non-alarming way to say that they might be in need of a body bag and a clean-up crew, so he decided to wait and see if the thief was in when they got their before alarming the man. He felt the gun he wore concealed, before taking off at a brisk pace towards the house. Alex caught Crawley's muffled swearing as he followed. Really, it was just a bit of running. Alex caught Crawley's incredulous stare as he made it back to the house without really breathing hard or sweating much. Staying in shape had some wonderful benefits. As Crawley went for the door, Alex froze. "Stop!" Crawley froze on instinct. The kid's voice sounded similar enough to his uncle and long-dead father's that it got a response.

"What is it, Ia-Alex?" Alex noticed the door was unlocked.

"Someone's in there and they picked the lock," Crawley swore quietly and drew his firearm. Alex decided it was a great time to get his out. He saw the man's eyes widen further when Alex used the SAS hand signals to gesture at him to take the left side. Ian was _going_ to explain this one. Alex thought it was rather fortunate he actually had someone on his side this time, instead of having to fight alone. The door was quietly pushed inward. Crawley and Alex heard the guy trip and exchanged a glance. That narrowed it down. They silently ascended the stairs. Crawley made sure his whisper was quiet enough to be heard just by Alex - the thief was still cursing loudly.

"Where _did_ you learn those?" Alex rolled his eyes.

"Ian. Do we want him alive or not?" Crawley shot him a look.

"Yes." Alex shrugged. He was just checking.

* * *

Alex flipped the door to the room the man was in and fired four times, instinctively. One bullet for each limb. He didn't miss. Crawley felt his mouth drop open. He hadn't seen shooting like that since back in the SCORPIA days. Instinctive firing. Oh, God. Alex was eleven. Jesus Christ. He hadn't missed either. Cotton Eye Joe wasn't going anywhere. What? He was under stress. "Crawley, call the police or whoever it is that handles these things". Crawley answered.

"Yes, Ian." In his defense, it was instinctive, OK?

"We don't even look that alike, Crawley." Then he realized what he'd said.

"Sorry, it's a habit." Alex sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Just make the call and have it cleaned up by the time the others get home, yeah?" Crawley sighed and made the call to get this joker down to MI6 headquarters.

"Alex, what kind of gun is it?" Alex had been carrying the Sig that day.

"SIG-Sauer P228." He'd gotten it off the school idiot. It had a better and loving home now. Crawley felt a small sense of relief. Thank God for small miracles. Ian would kill him if word got out about Alex's shooting abilities. Crawley handed him his gun after wiping the prints.

"Switch and wipe the prints off yours." Alex shrugged. If Crawley was covering for him, he wouldn't complain.

"What about gunshot residue?" Crawley looked at him.

"Do you by any chance have gunpowder in the house?" Alex almost laughed. He went to his nearest hiding spot and grabbed the packet out of the vase.

"Here." Crawley decided he really didn't want to know.

"Will they check your serial number?" Crawley shrugged.

"Nope, we just all have official ones and go by forensics and most senior operatives have unregistered firearms anyway." Alex seemed satisfied about that.

* * *

It took the team fifteen minutes to get there. Crawley handcuffed the guy (not that he was going anywhere with two kneecaps, an elbow, and his hand shot through) before they both sat in a chair with tea. The man had loudly termed himself as Rusty and proceeded to curse them into oblivion. Alex felt his trigger finger twitch. He sighed and got out the duct tape before tossing it to Crawley. Crawley had just shot him an amused look. "Naw, we might learn a few new ones." Alex rolled his eyes.

"I went to primary school remember. Besides, you can find really obscure swears in the dictionary." They just ignored the next stream of speculations about their parentage, ethnic identity, and sexual orientation. When the team finally got there, Alex got up to leave the room. Crawley lightly grabbed his shoulder.

"Witness statement." Crawley figured it was better to treat him as something closer to Ian than Tom or another civilian. Ian tended to forget these things, too. The four people filed into the room. To Crawley's surprise, Jones and Baxter were there. Along with the usual staff, came the man who Ian had described to him as Gregson. Alex suppressed a groan and sat down. Looks like it was the month for MI6 to be entering his home. His dog was giving all of them the evil eye.

"Err, who are all of you? Besides Mrs. Jones, I mean." They all introduced themselves. Alex vaguely recognized most of them from the files of important people in MI6 he'd looked at, but he wasn't about to say so. They introduced themselves. Gregson looked awkward.

"Mr. Crawley-" Crawley interrupted him.

"Agent. Alex is in the know due to special circumstances." Baxter (Alex had come up with at least one uncomplimentary nickname in record time for him) looked more interested in Fenrir, of all things. Alex remembered with a jolt that it had been him in charge of the project. Yeah, it just wasn't his night.

* * *

"Your _dog_ is very well-behaved." Alex pets Fenrir and felt him tense at the man's voice. Alex suddenly had a good idea who had hurt him.

"Thank you, Deputy Director Baxter. It tends to help when he's fed regularly and treated well." Alex's tone could have frozen the sun. Jones decided to interject.

"Alex, Deputy Director Baxter and Agent Gregson are here for a meeting on internal matters." Alex mentally rolled his eyes.

"Black Ops?" Crawley wondered why they even bothered.

"Yep." Alex had really only asked as a formality. The wolf was eyeing the _charming gentleman_ with no small amount of blood-lust.

"Fenrir, no biting." The wolf let out a huff that seemed disappointed. Crawley's gaze was rapidly switching his gaze between Fenrir, Alex, and Baxter. Alex decided to give the man a break.

"Fenrir, dinner time." The 'dog' let out a happy yip and ran down the stairs. Alex followed at a slightly more sedated pace. Baxter waited a moment and followed. Sue him, but he was curious. Alex had done the math for the amount of food his 'dog' would need per week and had settled for daily feedings of smaller portions. Baxter watched incredulously as the boy fed the monster raw meat from the freezer after thawing it in the microwave. The thing was even letting out little purrs of joy. He'd watched those things rip through body armored agents like tissue paper. Alex decided to switch to German when the wolf froze at the man's approach. " _It's okay, baby wolf, I will protect you."_ Fenrir thumped his tail against Alex's side. The wolf gave him its best puppy dog eyes. " _Alright, I will try, fierce one."_ Alex sighed and put himself in between his 'dog' and the MI6 man.

"Interesting. How many languages does he take commands in?" Alex raised an eyebrow.

"As many as I know."

He saw a faint ghost of annoyance on the man's face. Alex figured he was just out of practice. Annoying powerful people just by breathing was meant to be his specialty. Fenrir seemed to learn with Alex, as far as he could tell. Or perhaps he just understood the intent behind the words and not the words in and of themselves. "You're kind of irritating aren't you?" Alex withheld his smirk.

"Only to the nosy people. Besides, you did all just kind of barge in." Baxter's eyes flash. Blunt was better at icy stoicism.

"Why would he pick you, of all people to obey?" Alex shrugged. He assumed the man meant Fenrir.

"Maybe because I was nice. Maybe because I treated him as more than a tool. Maybe because I raised him as my own. Who knows? But I guess the point I'm trying to make here is: Who cares? You failed at raising a pet. I didn't. Story over." The man's eyes seemed to dance with an intensity that made Alex question his sanity.

"On the contrary, that isn't half of it." Alex did his best to sound placid. He should really be better at acting than this.

"Your point?" The man huffed.

"I guess it isn't really important. I'm just curious." Alex could call a bluff when he saw one, but he decided to humor the man. It was more that he suspected Ian was involved with this lot than actual respect.

"You should play more poker. On an alternate note, I just found him one day. I took him home, treated his injuries, get a steady food supply going and hid him in the closet until one of my guardians figured it out. We then got him vaccinated and registered as a husky mix." Baxter couldn't resist a snort.

"Husky mix, do people actually buy this shit?" Alex rolled his eyes.

"The vet did a wonderful job of 'buying' it. It probably helped he wasn't full size. I tell the neighbors he might be part Great Dane or something. You'd be surprised." Baxter just shook his head and switched to the incident report.

* * *

Alex breathed a sigh of relief when everybody but he and Crawley had left. "Has anyone ever told you that you're a disrespectful-?"

Alex smirked and cut him off. "Shit. Yes, I know. I just don't respect people who abuse animals, Crawley."

Crawley sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "You realize they could make your life really uncomfortable, right?"

Alex shrugged. "I wouldn't fan the flames if I didn't think I could take the heat, Crawley. Besides, my point still stands. If they're going to ruin the life of an eleven-year-old for being a bit cheeky, I'm of the opinion they don't deserve their position."

Crawley sighed again. "It's like you don't feel fear or something."

Alex shrugged. In truth, it was death he no longer feared. "I do, rest assured, but I refuse to give in or back down just because some trumped up bureaucratic frogs are on a power trip."

Crawley's mouth dropped open. "ALEX! They could very well be listening."

Alex laughed, slightly madly. "Let them, Crawley. The only thing they can't torture or blackmail into someone is respect. Plus, even you have to admit that lot has the combined charisma of a dead undertaker."

Crawley couldn't help his snort at that. "True, but don't say it to their faces. And seriously, quit pissing off government officials _and_ terrorists."

Alex grinned. "But Crawley, what else is there to do when they are hopelessly interfering. Suck it up and scowl?"

Crawley gave him the evil eye. "Exactly, you sarcastic shit."

Alex let his cheesy grin remain. "So if I piss off the government officials _or_ the terrorists-"

Crawley moaned before yelling. "ALEX!" Alex just sauntered off. The wolf was looking smug. Crawley groaned again after Alex exited the room. "He's going to be the death of me, I swear."

* * *

Jack Starbright sighed once again as she spotted the fact that Ian Rider was still on a business trip. Honestly, that man- Jack decided she was better off not completing that thought. Alex was certainly glad that the man was gone when his friends and Jack arrived. Alex raised an eyebrow as James Hale unexpectedly walked in. "Alex, I thought I'd come to visit, you being a new recluse after all."

There was the friend he'd really cared for. "James. Good to see you."

James walked up and hugged him. "So, how is the ol' homeschooling going?"

Alex groaned theatrically. "It's worse than real school."

James grinned. "Serves you right for abandoning us."

Alex swatted his friend. "But Jamie, you're supposed to sit there and let out comforting, manly grunts."

James grinned. "Not your boy, Rider. You see, unlike you, I like girls."

Alex laughed out loud. "Oh, James. You detected my devious plot to convert you to the devil."

It was an inside joke between them ever since their (rather disastrous) trip to a (particularly homophobic) church. James shook his head. "I still can't believe you never go in trouble for that."

Crawley sat down in the armchair. "You guys are explaining that."

James grinned. "Oh, 'tis an epic story of grand proportions." Alex rolled his eyes. Jack and Jerry looked like they were barely avoiding laughter as it was and Tom hadn't quit snorting for several minutes. James began. "So the school district in their ever resplendent wisdom decided to take us ungodly heathens to the annual church trip a year earlier than normal."

Crawley made a go on gesture. Alex took up the reins. "Well, they decided to do a standard Catholic ceremony, which as everyone knows takes hours. They also had us 'volunteer' during it. Probably so we wouldn't fall asleep, but I digress."

Tom grins. "So Alex gets this idea to help the nuns make it more interesting. Poor thing, he really was only trying to help."

James rolled his eyes. "So Alex decided to use the holy oil to set the staging and part of the altar on fire."

Alex blushed slightly. "Do we have to tell him?"

James rolled his eyes. "Yes."

Crawley interrupted since he wanted the rest of the story. "So, right as the priest got to the part about how all gays would burn in hell, Alex light up the trails of fire. Everyone just sort of sat there and stared until it got near the rivets."

Alex's lips twitched. "Well, the service was _riveting_."

They all groaned at that pun. "So what happened next?"

James grinned. "Fortunately, Padre was very forgiving once he found out about Alex's _pure and good_ intentions. He even let the school come back the next few years."

Crawley laughed. "Oh, and Alex?'

Alex grinned. "Yes, James?" James' grin turned shit-eating. "The service wasn't riveting, it was _inflammatory_."

Alex groaned at the pun. He'd just been out-punned. Crawley smirked. "Actually, I think we can all agree that it was Alex's help attempt that turned out to _go down in flames_."

Jack rolled her eyes. "And on that note, I'm _cooking_ to escape the puns, _cooking_."

Jack's dislike of the activity was legendary. Jack left the room. "So, James, Tom, Jerry, how is that school thing?"

They all grinned and began to regale him with the latest gossip around the school. Surprisingly, Jerry knew the most about what was going on. Then again, they tended to tell the older students more about what was going on administration-wise. He would never have pegged any of them as the school gossip collectors. His classmates had even attempted a few ill-advised pranks in a poor imitation of the 'mysterious' hacker. He had a feeling the trio knew it was him. "And then Mr. Bray was all like -"

Jack's yell interrupted them. "Boys! Dinner!"

They all assembled around the kitchen table. James decided to ask. "So Alex, What did you do besides homeschool work?"

Alex tried to bring up something that sounded normal. Somehow, he thought that being collateral for a drug dealer and helping out a criminal organization connect with a new recruit would get child services called. Well, there were a few things… "Well, James…"

* * *

The doorbell suddenly rang. Alex rose and Fenrir followed. "I'll get it."

There was a delivery man at the door. "Mr. Rider?"

Alex sighed. "Which one?"

The man huffed. "I was told either would do. Special delivery."

Alex shrugged. "I'll sign for it."

The package looked small and unassuming. In the spy world, that meant squat. It wasn't ticking at least. The paper looked foreign, and not the kind Alex recognized. He thanked the man and shut the door. "Crawley! We've got another weird-ass package! Can you check it?!"

Alex figured he may as well let the man do his job for once. Crawley came about as fast as Alex had ever seen the man move. "What is it with you, Ian, and fu- er, weirdos? And language!"

Considering the man was about to say 'fucking terrorists', Alex was going to ignore that. Crawley sighed. "At least it isn't ticking."

Jack paled. "Don't even joke. We got a severed head! A severed head!"

Jack still looked slightly hysterical at the thought. The table was quickly cleared. Crawley decided to go ahead and use clear sheeting, just in case. You could never be too careful. "Alright, everyone grab gloves."

James' eyes widened. "Is this a normal thing around here?"

Crawley didn't miss a beat. "Only for packages from unknown senders. It could be anything, you know."

James looked really weirded out but thankfully pulled on the gloves. To Alex's relief, it had an ordinary letter and a bunch of pictures in one of the bendy, multi-sided frames with a lot of pictures that they usually sold to families. The first one Alex noticed was a picture of a man who looked strikingly like him in a tux, with a smiling woman in a wedding dress. It had to be his father and mother. Crawley sighed. "That's John, your father, and Helen, your mother." Alex decided to open the letter before looking at any more of the pictures. It was one of the few pictures he'd ever seen in both lives of his parents.

* * *

_Dear Alex and Ian Rider,_

_You are formally invited to the family reunion in Kabul, Afghanistan. We hope you attend and have sent you some pictures as a gesture of goodwill since it has been a while. I hope to receive some pictures in return. The area is in conflict, but as long as you stay in the appropriate areas, we should be safe. As Alex was probably not been told much about us, I've included descriptions as well. I am Patrick Beckett, your grandfather. Your grandmother is deceased. Your aunt is Marion and your other uncle is named Darian. Marion adopted two children, Lillian and Jason (two and four years older). As for why we have never met, suffice to say that our family and yours did not get along very well, even when your father and mother were alive. I hope to get to know you despite this. Know that above all else, we will help you if you need it. I look forward to the meeting in person._

_Your Grandfather,_

_Patrick_

* * *

"Well, that was interesting." Was Alex's first response. Jack sighed.

"Kabul, really? Why not a safer place?" Alex shrugged.

"They do live there, Jack." Jack sighed.

"I still don't like it. You better call me every day." Alex smiled softly.

"I will." He shrugs and puts the pictures in his room.

"Does anybody have a camera?" He decided to try, even if Ian wouldn't or couldn't.


	30. The Countdown

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HI GUYS, I ALMOST FORGOT I WAS SUPPOSED TO WARN YOU, BUT THERE WILL BE T-RATED (NO ACTUAL SEX SCENES) SLASH AND MAYBE HET FROM NOW ON INTERMIXED WITH THE STORY! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED, THOROUGHLY!

Ian Rider was relieved that he got a couple weeks of leave the minute he got back from offing the Director of MI6 Black Ops. He could make the family reunion without the added stress of the job. Ian was curious about the hints Baxter kept dropping about Alex, though. Until Jones finally owned up the fact that Crawley and Alex had dealt with a home invasion. Then, he was pretty angry with his boss. "You should have told me!"

Jones raised an eyebrow. "Crawley had the situation thoroughly contained."

Ian continued griping. "And you let the Black Ops bastards tag along."

Jones sighed. "They really did have nothing better to do."

Ian hissed. "Whatever happened to all that extra paperwork they were having to do?"

Jones gave him a look that silenced him. "It was really the family pet that drew him."

Ian groaned. Fucking intra-agency politics. "Of course it was. I assume Alex told him Fenrir was off-limits."

Jones' lips twitched. "In so many words. He also rubbed the fact that he was better at training mutant hybrids with near sentience than an entire branch of Blacks Ops people."

Ian nearly face-palmed. Because that _sure_ would have gone over well. "I also happen to agree with his assessment of the mismanagement of the program." Of course, she did. Jones was also probably happy to salt the already bitter feelings, too. To be fair, the agencies _tolerated_ each other. The key word was tolerated. They were still fierce and bitter rivals. Ian decided it was time to go home. "I trust you don't want a debrief."

Jones snorted. "Of course not, Agent Rider, plausible deniability."

Ian shrugged. He was bone tired and the long-ass flight had not helped in the slightest. "Good night, Tulip."

Jones smiled faintly. "Good night, Ian."

* * *

Ian arrived home to a giant cluster of people in the living room. "Don't half of you have bedtimes?"

James was there for a sleepover. "It's a sleepover, man, nobody cares."

Ian just chuckled. Tom added his two cents in. "Plus, it's Friday. Nobody goes to bed on time on Friday."

Alex just grinned. "Best give it up, Ian. Besides, you're just in time for the reruns of _James Bond_."

Ian just gave Alex the evil eye. Crawley was shaking with suppressed laughter. Treacherous bastard. He decided to go with a reply. "That show is _so_ unrealistic."

Tom smirked. "Well, that's half the fun."

Ian sighed. He was too old for this. "Alright, don't stay up too late. I'm going to bed right now."

He was _so_ not watching _James Bond_. Crawley follows him up. "You aren't injured, are you?"

Ian sighs. "No. I'm just not watching that travesty piece of so-called film art."

Crawley grinned. "Aww. Don't like the reminder?"

Ian snaps to fully awake. "Someone could have heard you."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Don't be paranoid, Ian."

Ian sighed and continued up the stairs. He was tired. "So do you want to carpool?"

Ian smirks. "I have the week off."

And most of the summer afterward. He wasn't going to break the news until later, though. Crawley groans. "Lucky bastard."

Unlike Ian, he didn't get absurd amounts of vacation or cool assignments that could count as both. "By the way, your batshit in-laws want to hold the reunion in a war zone."

Ian groaned. "Which shithole is it this time?"

Crawley gave him a resigned look. "Kabul, Afghanistan."

Ian wondered if Alex would get suspicious if his other relatives disappeared. Probably. "Wonderful."

He was going to bed before Alex found another body or something else happened.

* * *

The next morning, Ian decided it was time for Alex's assessment/practice. He began with Pashto. " _Good morning, Alex."_ To his credit, Alex didn't even miss a beat before responding. Alex mentally groaned at the fact that he knew he wasn't going to be able to speak English with Ian until after the family reunion. At least he had Jack and Tom, who couldn't speak Pashto or Dari. He was pretty sure Crawley would go along with whatever Ian wanted. Plus, he had a bunker to finish restoring before he went on his 'trip'. Alex had decided on activating whatever was on the computer/flash drives before leaving. He was curious. Besides, Alex had a sinking suspicion that he might need whatever was on it. The rewiring had taken forever, but he was nearly done with it and redoing the walls. He discovered the base had a system to keep rats away when the computer was turned on. It really was incredible. Alex hadn't been able to figure out where it was getting power from, either. If it was the city power supply, someone else would have found it by now (he was sure that thing drained power like crazy). Maybe it had its own? If so, it wasn't visible. What he needed was his own personal electrical engineer. While he was dreaming, he could go to a medical doctor who wouldn't ask questions, a software programmer, and his own personal tactical team. Plus, if anyone were to actually stay there, they would need food. And vitamin D supplements. Not to mention they might ask questions. Ian was definitely not going to be hearing about his new base. Alex had decided this was a case of finders keepers. Besides, it didn't look like the government much cared what happened to it. He'd also removed the posters. And burned them.

* * *

Several hours later, Alex sighed as he fixed the last of the new wiring. Alex didn't want to risk breaking anything, so he made it as identical as possible. James had to go home at about noon and he'd decided to walk Fenrir. His wolf was now running around the base exploring. Alex was going to miss the place when he had to go to the family reunion. So far, the wolf hadn't broken anything, so Alex was pretty okay with him exploring. He decided it was time to activate the computer as he replaced the last panel in front of the last spot with former wire damage. He made his way back to the computer and looked for the spot where he could plug the drives in. Sure enough, there was a removable panel (if you had a screwdriver) that looked about the right size. Alex hesitated for a few seconds before plugging all of them into the computer. He felt a shiver of anticipation as it downloaded the contents of the drives. At first, it seemed the computer froze, but then a message appeared.

* * *

Active Secondary Programming? Y/N

* * *

Alex hit yes. There was a new message. He vaguely wondered if following the instructions of a paranoid doctor with years of bitterness towards the intelligence agencies was a good idea. Oh well, too late now.

* * *

\- Activating program…

Notice: Activating program will override the existing programming. Continue? Y/N

* * *

Alex hit yes. Let it not be said that he couldn't make up his mind. Besides, worst comes to worse, he could explode the base and the computer with it. Although, he wasn't actually sure if this was connected to the current internet or not.

* * *

Welcome to MADDOX! The first **M** assive **A** nalysis **D** ata **D** econstruction into d **O** c **X** form system!

Accessing the current ethernet…

Notice: Initial analysis will take a period of 25 days: 22 hours: 33 minutes: 25 seconds due to data abundance.

Continue? Y/N

* * *

Alex hit yes. Well, it wasn't as short or long as he was expecting. He wondered what the computer would do in his absence, though. Probably update. He refrained from remarking wryly that someone really wanted to name the computer system. Was it AI or just a gigantic processor? Either way, it really was kind of awesome that someone made this ages before the public found out. He decided to set the computer into the clearly labeled and still there 'holiday mode' until he got back. Alex wasn't sure what it did, but it was always better to follow instructions when it came to picky electronic devices. The program seemed to keep working with it on. Alex decides to leave the computer be and go exploring. There was still a whole level of offices and training rooms he hadn't checked beyond looking for damage. Alex decided to go to the library first. He figured if it was full of books, it would at least tell him something. He pressed his hand at the (rather bulky and older) hand-print scanner. It let him in. Alex swung the door open and turned on the lights. They had the decency to use the Dewey decimal system as far as Alex could tell. The fiction section was also in alphabetical order. Then again, he figured a group of scientists would definitely care about upkeep more than his former classmates. Alex checked the drawers. The library still used the system with cards. Was it worth it to computerize it? When Alex moved towards the back of the library, it started getting weirder. He hadn't noticed it at first, but there was a section in the back not visible from the front of the library. It was covered by a single black silk curtain. He delicately pulled it back. At first, it just appeared to be made of slightly rougher manuscripts, but Alex realized that they were research books. The handwritten results there for everyone to see. Some of it didn't even look like real science. He supposed he could read up later. Against his better judgment, he grabbed one that was about storing memories outside the brain and one about improvements to first aid.

* * *

Alex headed back at his usual time after locking up. He needed better security at his base. That could wait, though. Especially since he hadn't told anyone that it existed. Ian shot him a quizzical look when he got home almost four hours after 'walking Fenrir'. " _One would think you are avoiding me._ "

Alex rolled his eyes. It was Dari this time. " _Not avoiding. Besides, the 'dog' needs his walks, you know. What else could I possibly be doing?_ "

Ian raised an eyebrow. " _Making mayhem. Finding mutants. Antagonizing government agents. Meeting foreign officials. Any of those ring a bell?"_

Alex huffed defensively. " _I don't antagonize the government. They antagonize me."_

Ian's unamused look said it all. Jack looked irritated when she came home to the two of them bickering in a foreign language. "Can you two _please_ switch to a language I can kind of understand?"

Tom grinned. "Preferably English, since I'm failing Spanish."

Alex groaned. "Really, Tom? You're in the beginner's class."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Not all of us lived in Spain."

Alex sighed. "I'll work with you on it. How much extra credit do you need to pass?"

Ian frowned. "It really isn't-"

Jack promptly stomped on his foot and apologized. Ian followed her into the kitchen. "Really?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "Don't be discouraging. Honestly, Spanish is hard for some people."

Ian sighed. The world must have its collective IQ being lowered or something. "Sorry."

Jack snorted. "No you're not, but Alex gets pretty huffy when anyone besides him insults his friends, so just think before you open your mouth." Ian sighed. His life was so much simpler when it was just the three of them.

* * *

Ian sighed and called Alex up to his office. " _You responded to the letter, right?"_

Alex sighed. " _Yes, Ian."_

Ian shrugged. " _You are doing better than I expected. Besides, this is only for the trip. I'll try to take you somewhere nice afterward."_

Alex groaned. " _Yes, Ian, should I bring my weapons?"_

Ian snorted. " _Hell no, the customs officials are paranoid as fuck. Besides, our relatives have their own sets."_

Alex grinned. " _Whatever happened to be prepared?"_

Ian snorted. " _Only if being prepared doesn't get you a nice probe up your ass."_

Alex sighed. He didn't like leaving his handy knives and guns behind. Not to mention his wolf was going to lengthen the packing process. Alex walked out before Ian dismissed him. " _You would tell me if something was going on right?"_

Alex hated lying to his uncle. " _Yes, Ian."_ Sure enough, the minute he got his suitcase down the 'dog' started being a huge distraction. Fenrir had gotten clever enough to unpack his clothes while Alex tried to put them in the suitcase. "Damn it, dog." Ian was grinning in the doorway. " _Shut up, Ian."_

Ian smirked. " _I didn't say anything, Alex."_

Alex rolled his eyes and gave his dog a light push that had no effect. " _But you want to."_

Ian just walked off snorting. A few minutes later, he came back with a slender package and a backpack. He handed it to Alex. " _Smithers sends his regards. Plus, you needed a few things I grabbed you from the store. This is your emergency bag."_

Alex takes the supplies. He has faith in Ian's ability to pack a survival pack. Considering the man was the one who _taught him to pack one_ and all. " _Thank you, Ian."_ Ian walked off.

* * *

Alex swore and sent a text to Yassen. He wasn't really sure how to convince the man that the family reunion would end well. The man was paranoid about war-zones (with good reason, but still). He wondered if he wasn't about to be kidnapped. This was going to end well. Now he just had to keep repeating himself until he believed it. Alex wondered if he wasn't slowing going insane from the drama.

* * *

_\- C_

_We are going to Kabul for the family reunion._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen sat up when he got the text from Alex. Really?! His new nominee for 'most irresponsible guardian' was now Ian Rider. He was disciplined enough not to swear or have any other outward reaction, but that didn't mean he wasn't imagining Ian Rider in a choke-hold. There were worse guardians, he supposed, but honestly, Ian Rider's danger sense for children seemed to be non-existent. That and the fact that Tulip Jones was taking far too much of an interest in Alex's life was alarming.

* * *

_-A_

_I had better get daily texts as proof of life. Otherwise, a lot of people in an Afghani shithole are going to go 'missing' for Rhea's interrogation training._

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. He wasn't sure how his proportional reaction speech was going to be received so he refrained from giving it. _No, Yassen, you can't murder a whole bunch of people because my text comes in a little late._ Yeah, _that_ would end well. Still, even Ian was less intense. Though not by much. Alex was pretty sure some people had gone 'missing' when they tried to kidnap him or were what Ian considered a risk to his health.

* * *

_-C_

_You and everybody else. Don't you have a job? And a trainee?_

_-A_

* * *

Cossack raised an eyebrow. Oh well, at least Alex had agreed. His hours were flexible. Besides, terrorists did actually pay well for mercenaries acting in their stead. Rhea would totally back him up if it involved Alex. That and he was technically wealthy enough to retire comfortably. He figured he would just wait until he was actually too old to do his job before retiring. Thirty-five was about the limit for an assassin. Any longer and your reflexes started dulling. Slower reflexes got you killed. Painfully, in most cases.

* * *

_-A_

_My hours are flexible. Besides, you need a better guardian._

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. He knew on some level that Ian was probably not the best guardian, but seriously… At any rate, Alex wasn't going to report him. Ian wasn't that bad. Plus, he highly doubted anyone else could and would cover for him. Smithers or Crawley maybe? Alex may respect Yassen's skill, but he knew the man would be a lot less flexible about Alex's extracurricular activities than Ian was. Ian didn't mind or was just repressing what he didn't really want to know. Besides, Alex knew that any attention from SCORPIA was too much attention from SCORPIA.

* * *

_-C_

_Ian isn't that bad. Besides, my current other options aren't that great. I have to finish packing; the dog likes to unpack my bags._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen sighed. There really wasn't much he could do that wouldn't draw more attention to Alex. At any rate, he was going with his usual proof of life approach. Kidnapping him would start a manhunt and there would be questions from his (well, he was on his own side, technically) allies was probably the best word. Not to mention about half of the board still had anger management issues when it came to the whole debacle with MI6 and John Rider. Then again, most of them had anger management issues anyway. Not that he would ever say it to their faces. Back to the conversation at hand…

* * *

_-A_

_The wolf has more sense than the both of you combined! Don't get shot. Don't go to the police without a bribe. And whatever you do, DO NOT blow anything up. They are not nice to terrorists there._

_-C_

* * *

Alex was trying not to send the snarky reply Cossack's mothering was almost demanding. He felt a warm sort of glow in his chest. The man was not that bad. Then again, he had sent Alex a severed head… Yeah, Alex was probably not the sanest person in the whole world, but severed heads still had a gag reflex for him. Besides that, he enjoyed having someone to talk to that was slightly more morally flexible than Ian. And Yassen let him burn down houses and took his crazy-ass and slightly sarcastic suggestions. Alex wasn't sure what he'd do if he ended up having to pick between them, but he'd make sure it never happened.

* * *

_-C_

_Alright. You know, you aren't half bad at the training thing when it comes down to it._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack rolled his eyes. He was not going to reply to that. Besides, Alex's distraction tactic was amateur at best. Oh well, he assumed Alex could actually do better if he tried to be annoying or attention-grabbing. On second thought, Cossack wasn't sure if he wanted to be near Alex if he actually tried to be distracting. It would probably work a little too well. There would also be some sort of fiery explosion involved. No, he was not paranoid about Alex's bomb-building habit. As for being more patient when it came to Alex and Rhea, well, children were supposed to make mistakes and learn. Besides, if he had to bet on one of those versus the average SCORPIA operative, Cossack would put money on them. Mostly because the average SCORPIA operative tended to be mild to severely overconfident in their skills and relied on the reputation of the organization to keep them safe. At any rate, he had things he actually needed to get back to…

* * *

_-A_

_Goodnight Alex. And I only have the patience to train underage students. Adults are a waste of my time._

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed and snapped his phone shut. At least the computer was running and he'd have a surprise waiting for him when he got back. He wondered why they had to pack so early, but he figured that Ian just didn't want to leave it for the last minute. Plus, it was time to open Smithers' present. It was a set of small handheld games with explanations attached. Awesome. There was one smoke bomb, one scanner, and one x-ray device. The game boy had been one of his favorites. He placed it in his backpack. Wait a minute… Afghanistan had restricted airspace, so how the hell were they going to get there? Alex supposed he'd find out soon. There had better not be long hikes through war-zones involved. Alex was going to be pissed off if there was. Why couldn't it have been a nice place, like Spain? Spain was nice this time of year if a bit warm. He pets his (now sulky) 'dog'. Fenrir was lurking like an overgrown rain-cloud. Alex pets his wolf's thick, fluffy, dark grey fur. The yellow eyes blinked at him and he huffed and plopped himself onto Alex's bed. Alex sighed. "You forgive me, right, furball?" Alex was treated to a lick that displaced almost every follicle of his hair. He rolled his eyes. "Don't be petty Fenrir. Besides, I'll be back soon."

Alex sighed and went under the covers next to his giant wolf. Snuggling his pet was definitely a favorite activity. Jack walked in and rolled her eyes. "Good luck."

Alex grinned. "Thanks, Jack. I hope this goes well." Alex rolled over and got a face full of grey fur. A yellow eye cracked open and a rumbly noise went through Fenrir's throat. Alex was asleep before he registered the door closing.

* * *

Ian sighed as he looked at the travel arrangements. It was going to be a 'fun' trip. He was already angry with the darling in-laws and he had even gotten to the goddamn fucking reunion yet. Crawley came into his room. "Need help with the travel arrangements?"

Ian resisted a smile. "Have I told you how much I appreciate your work lately?"

Crawley just smirked and grabbed the laptop. "Fork it over and you're welcome." This was more his arena than Ian's, anyway. It certainly wasn't Mrs. Jones who ordered all of the travel arrangements. Not that she didn't do work, but her specialty was more in the analysis arena. Crawley was the facilitator. Most people would call him the closest thing the intelligence world had to a fixer and they would be right. Traveling into an air restricted area wasn't as hard as most people believed. Mainly because security was focused more on preventing people from leaving than going in. Nobody sane actually wanted to go to a war zone. Crawley would give Ian backup options just in case shit hit the fan on the way out. Honestly, he was with Ian on this one. What kind of insane fucks actually wanted the family reunion in a war zone? A few hours later, with Ian occasionally reading over his shoulder, he was done. "All done. You have three backup getaway options just in case they start closing up travel again."

Crawley snapped open his briefcase and continued. "If you get caught in a bombing, your best bet is to head for a country that is on decent terms with us. And, for the love of God, use the transponder if something happens and you need backup."

He placed it in Ian's hand with more force than strictly necessary. Ian gave him a fond smile. "Thank you, Crawley."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "We can use our given names outside of work. I mean, we even live together now."

Crawley should have known it was a bad idea. "Oh, but then the office might think we're getting _too_ familiar."

Crawley rolled his eyes. They were both past thirty for Christ's sake. "Ian, how old are you again?"

Ian grinned. Crawley wondered if he'd ever learned to keep his mouth shut around the man. "Why? Are you interested, Crawley?"

Crawley whacked Ian upside the head. "I really should just keep my mouth shut around you."

Ian smirked. "But these things go so much better with everyone's mouth open. No wonder you haven't had a date in ages."

Crawley wondered sometimes where the man had picked up his especially filthy sense of humor. "As I recall, neither have you, unless it involved a mission."

Ian just kept on smirking. "Aw, have you been keeping track? I mean, it's kind of flattering in a stalker-y way."

Crawley groaned. "Shut up Ian, before I start threatening you with paperwork."

Ian grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Why, are you thinking of bending me over a-"

Crawley cut him off with a glare. "If you even think of finishing that, you'll be up to your nose in paperwork."

He did not want the mental image. It was bad enough they were sitting on another bed together. Ian pouted. "Fine."

Crawley wondered if the man was actually flirting or if he was just being his usual self. "You being distracting aside. Are you alright?" Ian would never want him, right? He was boring and forgettable.

* * *

Ian sighed. Flirting with Crawley was just way too much fun. Even if the man would probably never take him seriously. Which was good, because he didn't want their friendship ruined. Crawley would probably just want some nice boring housewife who didn't cause any trouble, right? Yeah, definitely. "Fine, Crawley. You worry too much."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "No, I don't. It's more that nobody else worries at all."

Ian snapped the computer shut and placed it on his desk before taking off his outer clothing and body armor and stretching out on the bed. "It's fine, Crawley, really. I wasn't feeling terribly merciful after I caught him with underage hookers trafficked by the local cartel. Way underage. The pervert."

Crawley was doing his absolute best not to notice or appreciate his coworker in pretty skimpy and nearly skintight clothing. He was over thirty and had self-control. He was over thirty and had self-control. Crawley would just have to mentally repeat it until he believed it. Ian closed his eyes and somehow managed to pull off looking attractive while smelling faintly of gunfire. Crawley imagined he'd had to exit the country quickly. Crawley mentally whacked himself for enjoying the view and nearly leaning in. "Do you want to talk to someone about that?"

Ian opened one eye and snorted. "Uh, no. Just talking to you and trying to erase the mental images is just fine. Besides, we both know Jones is going to read that psych report."

Crawley smiled faintly. "You aren't supposed to know that. Have you been rifling through her inbox again?"

Ian began peeling off his undershirt and Crawley began to wonder which deity he'd royally offended in the past life because this was slow and painful torture. Ian gave him that smirk he both dreaded and loved. "Nope. It's what I would do."

Crawley sighed and forced it not to turn into a moan or a whimper when Ian finished taking off his undershirt. "You are definitely paranoid."

Ian smirked again. "But I'm right."

Crawley took one last look at Ian's chest before fixing his eyes on Ian's face. "I'm, uh, going to go now."

Ian brushed past him to go towards the shower. "Sweet dreams, John." The words were practically blown onto his neck. Fuck's sake. He was leaving before he did something he'd regret later.

* * *

Ian smirked as he went towards the shower. He did rather enjoy having that effect on Crawley. Too bad it was because the dude wasn't used to nudity. Ian figured the sooner Crawley got used to him shirtless the better. He wasn't a nudist per say, but he did occasionally like to wander around without his shirt in his part of the house. Besides, it was a relief if you had burns on your back or wore heavy body armor on a tortuously long flight. Ian hadn't really gotten the chance to change. At least he hadn't been covered in blood, but that had been very hard on his back. Starbright had learned to always knock before entering pretty early on. He usually had shirts around the house (folded and put away, he wasn't a slob). Ian sighed. It was actually much easier to have Crawley here and probably nicer to Crawley, too. After all, it made watching Alex much easier on the guy. Plus, now he didn't have to go to the office to convince Crawley to help him with his travel plans. Or anything else. Besides, Ian really did enjoy having someone around who threatened him with paperwork and told him to knock it off. Turning people into masses of stuttering drool had lost its appeal when he was about twenty-three. But then he'd discovered pranking. It was awesome. Personally, he always thought the world was more fun while you ruffled feathers. Ian decided to sleep after his shower. He was actually tired. That night, he slept like the dead.

* * *

John Crawley groaned and once more tried to rid his mind of thoughts of his nearly nude long-time coworker and friend. _Sweet dreams, John._ Ian was not helping him out here. The man insisted on flirting and stripping in front of him. The mischievous brown eyes and minimally scarred, well-defined chest were not helping him concentrate on his late-night paperwork either. _Why, Crawley, are you thinking of bending me over a desk?_ Crawley firmly shut down on the mental image that was creating. What was he doing again? Oh yeah, interdepartmental finances. Why do you ask? Well, Crawley had a sinking suspicion that this was Jones' passive-aggressive way of telling him to own up to their non-existent sexual relationship. If it was up to him, there would totally be one. Sadly, he didn't think Ian would say yes. For all he knew, Ian was completely straight. At any rate, angsting was not getting his paperwork done. Neither was wanting what he couldn't have. Crawley groaned as he realized he had about three more hours' worth of this mess to put up with. He wasn't even _in_ the finance department. He wondered if he could get Ian to prank Jones for him. Probably, but then he'd have to do the paperwork for that too. Plus, Jones would totally know it was the two of them. No one else dared prank the bosses and with good reason. Both could be really nasty if you got on their bad side. Unfortunately, that didn't stop Ian or Rider mini. It made for a great private laugh, though. Blunt's enemies had a tendency to go to prison or end up in a mental institution. Both the bosses were a fan of blackmail. A few hours later, Crawley decided to go to sleep. At least that was done. Maybe he could finally do something fun on the weekend. Preferably with Ian. He fell asleep before he could cut that line of thought off.

Crawley groaned as he woke up. Well, he was officially not going to be able to look Ian in the eyes for the next week. Especially after that dream. It had just been getting to the good part when his alarm went off, too. Oh, well. It was time to get up. He usually worked on Saturdays. Then Jones would make him take Sunday off. Something about not having a life. Crawley didn't much mind. MI6 had pretty much been his life. That and his social life outside the bank was pretty much non-existent. He ran his hands through his hair before getting dressed in his usual non-descript suit and tie. Appearances needed to be maintained after all. John was surprised nobody in the house besides Alex had figured out his and Ian's secret, but then again, they weren't the type to ask questions. Starbright and Harris senior seemed to know when to keep their mouths shut and the kids besides Alex were normal kids. Alex on the other hand… Ian had done a good job hiding the kid's important skills from even him. Actually, it was probably a good thing. Knowledge of instinctive firing was an unofficial, but very real, death sentence in most countries with an intelligence service. The instinctive firing was used only by assassins and taught only by terrorists. Or so the higher-ups told the agents. He personally had his doubts about that, but it was a long story. Crawley should report both him and Ian, but… He wasn't going to. There was too much here he didn't understand. Plus, the kid was eleven and even his cold, dead conscience lurched at the thought of what could happen to him. Blunt wouldn't care. Jones would be upset, but she wouldn't go against the man.

* * *

Ian Rider got up with his usual grace. He knew Crawley wanted an actual talk. Ian was pretty sure that it had been Alex, not Crawley, who took down the intruder. He kind of owed the man an explanation. Ian just hadn't wanted to deal with it last night and plus, teasing the man was one of his few consistent joys in life. That and Alex. Of course the brat watched _James Bond_ just to irritate the living shit out of him, but he still liked his nephew. Ian decided to get dressed. Apparently, nobody appreciated his mild exhibitionist streak. He really didn't want Starbright to blow a fuse or quit. He had spent ages looking for just the right person to take care of Alex. They had gone through about five housekeepers before her and, well, they didn't really work out. He sighed as he pulled on his clothes. It was never anything less than business casual off-mission. Ian had a strong aversion to casual since a rather terrible series of undercover operations he'd done with a few different street gangs. He was _never_ wearing jeans again after that last fiasco. Plus, dressing formally warded off some of the more inappropriate advances of certain individuals (cough, his co-workers, cough). He put on his watch and strolled down the stairs to eat breakfast. Crawley was already there, sipping coffee. "You could take the day off, you know."

Crawley tried not to focus on the fact that Ian looked unfairly attractive in that suit. He tried to cut that line of thought off. Crawley allowed a wry twist of his mouth. "Ah, but then the world might end, you see."

Ian snorted and grabbed the coffee Crawley made him. Alex entered the kitchen. "Dude, who works on a Saturday?"

Ian choked back a snort. Crawley's eye twitched. "I do, so if you and Distracting are done, I'm going to work." Crawley actually wasn't that pissed, but he needed an excuse to leave before Ian caught him staring.

* * *

Ian sighed. He'd try to convince Crawley to loosen up after they lived through the family reunion. They were living together now. Maybe Alex could help? He didn't think Crawley was that mad, but that was probably his cue to leave. The man had a sixth sense for when Riders plotted anything that involved him. Alex was probably going to debate him out of boring paperwork, so he left. Ian gave Alex a look. "No scaring off Crawley. We're going to ease him into the world of irresponsible fun-loving maniacs, got it?"

Alex smirked. "Yes, Ian. Are you sure you aren't going to be easing him into anything _else_?"

Alex couldn't resist the jab. He was mentally seventeen, okay? Ian spat into his coffee cup. "Alex!"

Alex just started laughing at his uncle's expression. "Consider that revenge for the incest joke." Alex sauntered off before Ian could regain his snarkiness enough for a comeback. Ian turned ever so slightly pink as he heard Alex's chuckles. Jack walked in to see his gobsmacked expression. "Trouble in paradise?"

Ian quickly regained his usual reserve. "He made his first sex joke to me."

Jack rolled her eyes. "I blame you for that one."

Ian sighed and let her take his empty coffee cup. "Really, Ian, he is about that age."

Ian shrugged. "I suppose." He resisted the urge to sigh when Starbright's cough sounded suspiciously like 'incest joke'. Yeah, he was going to blame John's genes for this one. No chance in hell it was his fault.


	31. An Auspicious Start to a Wonderful Trip

Alex sighed as Ian woke him at way too early in the morning to be conscious o'clock. His bags were, thankfully, packed. Alex and Ian walked silently down the stairs and met Crawley in the kitchen. Alex suppressed a yawn. "You're up early, Crawley."

Ian went to get his bags. He'd been helping Alex with his. Crawley glanced around. "Right, so...um, if you run into trouble, call me. Ian never uses his back-up for some reason."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I will." He refrained from the sarcastic remark about the abilities of Ian's colleagues that was threatening to slip from his lips. The two exchanged a final look as Ian reentered the kitchen. Alex noticed something in Crawley's gaze. There was something raw, something desperate there. Alex had a feeling if he called, the man would find a way to send backup. He and Ian ate a light breakfast. It tended to reduce the puking involved with fatigue. Alex knew from experience eating anything heavy on less than six hours of sleep tended not to end well for him. Not that he'd had less than eight most nights, but still it was always a good thing to keep in mind. As they stepped out the door to drive to the station, the first grey of dawn was breaking out over the horizon. Alex had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last early morning he would be involved in for a while. When they finally got to the station, Ian found out that their train was delayed. The place was creepily quiet, with only a few other passengers nearby. That had gotten there after the night rush, but before the overnight trains pulled in for the morning. Suffice to say, Ian was already feeling twitchy. Crowd cover was an advantage, after all.

* * *

"What an auspicious start, Ian." His uncle twitched at that. Then, the man rolled his eyes.

"It's too early for you to be a sarcastic shit, Alex," Ian stated, his lips twitching at Alex's indignant expression. Too early, his ass. This was totally Ian's fault.

"It's never too early to be a sarcastic shit, Ian. Besides, aren't you, as the responsible adult, supposed to be watching your language?" Alex was smirking as he quipped back. He was going to find a way to drag John's ass back from the grave and punch him for having passed on his genes. Why did Alex have to be mouthier in the morning?

"Shut up, Alex." He knew he should have come up with a better comeback. Alex grinned.

"Moi? Pourquoi?" Ian rolled his eyes.

"You know why, brat." Alex looked like the cat that got the canary.

"Mais mon oncle, mon coeur est brisé." Ian groaned.

"Don't call me uncle. It makes me sound old. And it is way too early for your sarcasm in _French._ " Alex smirked.

"But you were the one who insisted I learned it." Ian didn't have a reply for that. He decided that this round went to Alex. It was way too early in the morning for this. He sighed. And wondered if time traveling to preemptively murder his brother was possible. Probably, not. At least the train tickets were about to be sorted. Being stuck in a train station with a sarcastic Alex for four hours would drive anyone homicidal. Including Blunt and Jones.

* * *

Alex was starting to wonder if Crawley and Jones had some sort of secret fetish involving his uncle and pre-dawn traveling arrangements. The past few days were taking their toll. That and the fact that Ian was not really letting up on either his lessons or his secrecy involving their traveling plans. _It should be a surprise, Alex_. Yes, Ian. Did he mention how much he hated 'surprises'? Didn't want to Alex about his illegal people-smuggling buddies, more like. Who did Ian think he was fooling? Alex was eleven (mentally seventeen, but he was going to ignore that), not stupid. The man made sure Alex knew enough civics to know that air travel to Afghanistan was restricted (and probably the other kinds as well). Alex mentally suppressed his groan as Ian once again went over the different situations and which greetings to use in them _in_ Pashto and Dari. The man knew he was eleven, right? Then again, it wasn't like high expectations were a new thing for him. Meeting them was. Before, he had struggled more often with Ian's lessons. He wondered how his uncle had gotten them out of the family reunions last time. Were they even alive at that time? Alex could only wonder. Speaking of time traveling, he wondered how much of his thought process was biologically driven. His focus was, not lacking, but not what he knew it could be in a few years. His emotions were more volatile and at times difficult to control. Was all that really based on biology? Not to mention he hadn't really contemplated the whole redoing being a teenager. It was kind of difficult to think about (not to mention the whole puberty thing). He knew, intellectually, which people were attractive, but it wasn't the same as the actual attraction. Alex actually did groan at the thought about what the redo could do to his mental development. He needed a psychiatrist to discuss this with. Then again, he could probably use one in general. Why couldn't he have at least gotten his medical degree before being shot?

* * *

Alex sighed and supposed that nothing was stopping him from reading the medical texts he brought from his 'underground library'. The medical texts had ranged from translations of ancient Greek books to traditional Chinese medicine to 'modern' texts from within the last ten years. He had discovered that the base had been shut down only four years before from the dates on the recordings and his estimates on the timeline of Allen's death and the time it took the average base to shut down (he'd paid attention in those SAS classes, supposedly it was good to know for strategy purposes). At any rate, he'd packed the ones that were (actually pretty helpfully) marked as being accurate (no matter the origin). He could confuse himself with the history of medicine later. Plus, he needed to understand this stuff to get a general idea of what his own medical file might contain in the future and what exactly they had done in the experiments. As much as he hated to admit it, Grim had a point about him being accident prone. Ian couldn't always be around and when he'd found out about how much MI6 had neglected his welfare he was not inclined to trust any of them or their doctors for more than basic care. Cough shot to the chest and all his injuries he'd had to attend school with, cough. At any rate, battlefield and long-term care were important. Alex cracked open the first one and was glad he'd brought a dictionary of medical terms. Time to get started.

* * *

Ian walked in on his four-book study-fest of _fun_ three hours later. He just looked at Alex and looked at the books and looked at him again with a raised eyebrow. "Is there something you need help with?"

Alex knew Ian _would_ actually help him. The problem was that this would give away a lot of his secrets he wasn't sure he wanted to put into the hands of the man. As much as he loved Ian, his uncle did work for MI6. "Yes?"

His uncle rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be too proud to ask for-" The man suddenly changed his sentence once he registered what Alex was reading. "Where the _hell_ did you get advanced medical texts?"

Crap. Why couldn't Ian be his usual selectively observant self? Then again, this was more blatant in terms of the stuff Alex actually had pulled since his jaunt through time. These weren't from the family library either. "They're not illegal, Ian."

He decided not to mention the other _actually_ illegal texts he owned. Like Three's torture manual or the other Malagosto books that had been surprisingly easy to locate in the deep web. He had most of them memorized, but it never hurt to have an actual way of knowing and finding said knowledge in case he got caught red-handed. It was almost like they were encouraging education - for assassins and interrogation experts. That would be a _fun_ conversation. His uncle didn't seem to be in the mood for games. "That doesn't answer my question."

Ian was mentally wondering where on earth Alex could have gotten the books. They were college textbooks, but there wasn't a place to get them that was convenient. He wasn't sure they'd sell college textbooks to kids either. Then again, Alex had taken a random trip to Switzerland. Travel was probably not an issue. "Would you drop it if I told you I coincidentally found a stash of books in the neighborhood nobody was using?"

Alex managed to get out. It was short notice, okay? "No."

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. "And since when did you-" Ian cut himself off. "Fenrir's walks." He leveled a glare at Alex. "Do I need to add more study items to your list?"

Alex groaned. "No. And I was only exploring, Ian. Exercise is good for people, you know." Alex picked up the first book and moved to close it. "Besides I like having time for things I want to study."

Ian sucked in a breath. "Don't. I'll help you. It's what I'm here for."

He sat on the bed next to Alex and pulled his nephew closer, so they could both read at the same time. "We can talk about the other things later." They both turned their attention to the medical textbooks in front of them.

* * *

Dinner was awkward and late. But mostly awkward. Ian was looking at him expectantly. Alex was trying to come up with an explanation that didn't end with him being confined to the house. He was pretty sure _I broke into a deserted underground base_ was not going to make Ian particularly happy nor was _It's totally the dog's fault_. Ian was now giving him the look of doom. Alex was pretty sure he'd met less terrifying insane megalomaniacs. Of course, Ian was scary because he was sane. Alex was now checking the room's escape routes. He was pretty sure Ian had deliberately got one too high for him to safely exit through the window. Alex glanced around one last time before Ian decided to break the ice. "Alex…"

Alex sighed. "It's a secret. I'm not hurting anyone."

Ian looked hurt. "Alex, you're eleven. I'm worried."

Alex sighed. This wasn't about Ian. This was about hiding his abilities from everybody. He felt like laughing madly. Ever since Alan Blunt had entered his life, he'd been running. "It's not dangerous."

He hoped. The computer could be, but then, so could the books. Not that he was planning on giving Ian the whole story. "I don't want to threaten you Alex, but I will if I have to."

Ian said in a firmly resigned tone. "Damn it, Ian." Alex felt a flash of rage. He was tired of being threatened. "Take no for an answer, please."

Alex softened it from what he really wanted to say. "Why?"

The man whispered now. Ian's eyes were pleading. Alex felt a familiar ache in his chest. He just didn't trust that Ian wouldn't go to MI6. Alex knew on some level that the man was leveraging his guilt, but he still felt bad about not telling him. Ian knew his hurt was slipping through his mask. He allowed it. Why? What could be the reason Alex would keep a secret? "Just let it go, Ian. I don't want to fight you on this."

Ian felt a flash of pain and déjà vu so intense that it almost sent him screaming. John. Please, no. No, it was Alex. He wasn't losing Alex, not the way he lost John. It had been the secrets that got him in the end. Alex knew enough about panic attacks to notice Ian was about to have one. Shit. Was it something he said? Actually, Ian had the slightly glazed look that indicated Alex was better off with trying to calm him down. "Easy, Ian."

Thankfully, they were both sitting. Alex gently sat on his uncle's lap and hugged him. Ian returned the hug and Alex could feel the tremors. The man was clearly not in a good place. Alex knew screaming in frustration was not the answer. But it was absolutely infuriating not knowing what to do or say while Ian regained control of his emotions. Alex felt Ian's hands run through his hair as the man's breathing rate returned to something normal. "Sorry, that hasn't happened in years."

Ian's voice sounded surprisingly normal, considering. "It's not your fault."

Alex stiffened as he realized his position. "Do you want me to go?"

The man's arms tightened to almost bruising immediately. "No!" Ian snapped. His tone immediately softened and turned pleading. "No, please stay. I'm sorr-"

Alex cut him off. "Don't apologize. It's not something you can help."

Actually, he hated the sound of Ian begging. Ian didn't mind the quiet so much. Besides, having Alex here was soothing. He felt his breathing return to normal and did his best to lighten his grip. He couldn't stop himself from delicately running his fingertips along Alex's scalp and shoulders. Making sure he was still here. Damn, this was too soon after an assassination mission. It was probably why he was on edge. "Can you stay with me?"

Alex knew he meant for the night. There was no reason why not. "Sure." Ian breathed a mental sigh of relief. He knew he was going to have nightmares and having Alex there would make waking up from watching him die a lot easier. Nothing would make waking up from watching John and Helen die easier, but at least Alex would be there. His heart was still racing as they both prepared for bed. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Alex sighed as he woke up. Ian hadn't slept well, at all. They were about three quarters of the way through their journey. It was actually a good chance to see how to travel unnoticed with more than one person. Most of his SCORPIA lessons assumed that everybody was either an operative or knew what they were doing (i.e. kidnappers). But then, both he and Ian were operatives. Ian looked terrible. Sleep deprivation seemed to have taken its toll. Alex noticed the man hadn't stirred. He delicately ran his fingers over the shadows under Ian's eyes. Alex knew he probably didn't look his best, but Ian still looked worse. Alex decided to pack his and Ian's bags. He tried to move quietly so as not to wake his uncle. Ian probably needed the sleep more than he did. That and he was pretty sure that Ian had woken from at least four nightmares the night before. He silently slid everything except the toothbrushes into the bag. Then Alex decided to get them both breakfast. They were in the middle of nowhere Russia (not the actual name, but Alex didn't really care overmuch). His studying of the language had really come in handy for certain parts of Eastern Europe and the country itself. Ian of course knew enough to get by, but his dialect was slightly different from Alex's. Alex figured nobody cared or noticed enough to ask. Back to getting breakfast. He decided not to take any chances and carried at least enough to pick handcuffs with. Admittedly it wasn't a gun or a knife. Alex still felt vulnerable, but every little bit helped. He strolled along the street in the early morning. In the summer, the sun rose very early. At least he was far enough south that he didn't have to worry about white night. That was always a pain in the ass. He got some of the local fare, not wanting to risk attracting attention. Both he and the lady bartered in Russian. It was nice to know the language. Alex knew that the journey would be pretty rough. Surprisingly, the streets were still pretty empty. He made his way back quietly.

* * *

They'd be fine in Kazakhstan, language-wise. Turkmenistan would be crossed in a one day. Iran had Dari as the main language and Alex knew he'd be fine with Pashto and Dari in Afghanistan, considering it was what Ian taught him. When he got back, Ian was still asleep. He lightly placed the kasha down and woke Ian up with a tap on the shoulder. His uncle woke up instantly. "I thought I told you not to leave the room without me."

Alex shrugged. "You needed the sleep and I figured you meant after we got to Kazakhstan."

Ian sighed and got up, rubbing his eyes. "Thank you, but don't do it again."

Alex grinned. "Don't worry. I don't do breakfast in bed every morning."

Ian swats him lightly on the shoulder. Alex decided to switch his shirts. Cotton would be more comfortable than this one. He saw Ian wince guiltily. "What?"

His uncle raised an eyebrow. "Be honest, how sore are you?"

Alex was puzzled. "I still have no idea what you're going on about." Alex checked the mirror and saw the light bruising. Huh, he hadn't noticed. Guess Ian's grip had been tighter than he'd thought. He barely noticed bruises anymore, to be honest. Between training, Fenrir, and _situations_ , he nearly always had light to major bruising. Alex experimentally moved his shoulder. "I honestly didn't notice."

It wasn't very high in his category of painful shit, to be fair. He'd been shot, had stuff exploded near him, and of course, nothing really compared to waterboarding or watching Jack die. Not that Ian knew about most of that. "Alex, you don't need to lie."

Alex sighed. "I'm not. I've gotten worse bruises from being tackled by Tom. Ian, stop feeling guilty."

That much was true. The future soccer team players of Brooklands were all fans of roughhousing. Plus there was Fenrir and training, not to mention karate. "Let's move then, if you get sore, let me know."

* * *

It was a long day, but they ended up stopping at the very edge of the border on Kazakhstan. Alex could definitely tell that the country was much poorer than the ones in Europe. The food prices were lower and so where the alcohol prices, not to mention the variety one could find at the grocery store (of booze, nutritious food was actually a challenge). The streets were less clean than the ones in Europe, particularly the ones in Switzerland. The pristine cleanliness of the famously neutral country stood in stark contrast with the grimmer, greyer streets of the current country. To be fair, that was in the poorer neighborhoods. In the richer ones, the contrast was stark. The buildings were pristine, the streets were eerily clean and empty and the embassies had guards with machine guns on the top. There were fountains with sparkling, clear water and Alex was amazed to see the building coated with either bronze or gold. The flower gardens were actually impressive. Alex felt a twist of disgust at the obvious disregard for the poor. They moved to what Alex assumed was the very small middle-class neighborhood. Immediately, his senses went haywire. They were approached by a man who appeared to be in his fifties. Alex could tell from the way he moved (Ian's lessons paying off) that he was CIA and something else. Assassin maybe? He knew that the larger intelligence agencies had some sort of assassination program, even if they wouldn't admit it. The man raised a single eyebrow at Alex before Ian snapped out a snippet of Russian at the man. The conversation wasn't long or difficult to follow. They were going to be transported to Afghanistan and Crawley and the other dude's boss would handle payment.

* * *

Once they got to what Alex assumed was the man's house, he had to ask a question. " _What do you go by?"_

The man seemed surprised. His English had a southern accent. "You can call me Lance. Ya, don' need ta speak Russian in here. I know it ain't no bag o' laughs for ya." The dude even looked like a hired gun in that suit. Fishing for information, too. He made sure his accent matched Ian's accent. The two of them had engaged in a conversation before Ian walked off to check their quarters (probably checking for bombs, Alex remembered Smithers warnings about the CIA - _no sense of humor, you can't trust them either_ ). "So what are you here for?"

Well, that was refreshingly direct. "A reunion of sorts."

Lance was now giving him the Blunt degree of observation. "You're not very talkative, are ya?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. He really should learn some impulse control. "You're not very subtle for an operative, are you?"

Lance actually laughed. "Naw, that subtle shit is for pussies. I'm more of a stabby kinda guy." Alex snorted. Gee, he would never have noticed. The knives and guns "Lance" was wearing just _had_ to be decoration. "Yer very cute for a war zone."

Alex sighed. "I know four ways of killing you with this rusty nail. Please leave us alone."

Lance grins. It was the sort he'd imagine on a very large tiger. "I was only playin'. 'Sides I gotta play nice, or the boss is gonna be pissy." Alex felt his lips twitch. "Inter-agency cooperation or some rot. I gotta say…"

The man continued his rant on what exactly he thought of the people in charge of intelligence agencies. When Lance finally paused for a minute, Alex had to ask. "So why do you still work for them?"

Lance shrugged. "I don' know how to do much else, ya see. Plus, it's good for keepin' up my side job. Merc work is where ya make it ya see. You just have ta not get caught."

Alex wondered, though. "So why are you telling me all of this?"

Lance shrugged. "It's a warnin', ya dope. Don' work for these guys and find yer own way. I know ya could and I figure they migh' try to sell the job to ya."

Alex shrugged. "Thanks." On that note, Lance fell quiet.

* * *

Alex actually liked Lance. Ian didn't seem to feel the same way. Alex got the feeling that the man was deliberately understating his intelligence around Ian, not to mention the accent. Then again, Ian actually took pride in what he did, so Alex supposed he could see where the clash came from. Lance on the other hand… Alex got the feeling the man was there for the dental plan or something. He was vaguely reminded of a tiger whenever the man was in the room. Large, predatory, and surprisingly good at blending and keeping quiet in when they wanted to be. He was probably overthinking his metaphor. Then again, he didn't exactly have much else to do. Ian struck him as more of the Jaguar type. Stealthy, light, swift, and very, very deadly. Definitely overthinking his metaphors. Must be the heat. The desert was insufferable during the summer and being in semi-confined spaces for long periods of time (he reminded himself that it was only a few days) was not helping. It was a lot more comfortable than the methods used by a certain people-smuggling group, but it was still hot. Alex rested his head against a sweltering piece of metal connected to their current transport. Did he mention the desert was hot? And boring? And sandy as all fuck? He knew he was internally whining, but he considered the fact it wasn't out loud a remarkable demonstration of his restraint. "Not dyin' of heat stroke are you?"

Alex grinned. "Nope. You'd be cleaning up my puke if I was, remember?"

Lance smirked. "Naw, I'd just leave it for the secretary. She's the one who'd give a shit."

Alex snorted. "The poor woman has to put up with you? I'd quit."

Lance just snorted at Ian's glare. "Aw, but she gets hazard pay. 'Sides I ain't that bad."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Sure, Lance, just keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night and not die of heat exhaustion." Lance just kept laughing his ass off and driving.

* * *

Alex was really getting tired of their progressively crappier modes of transportation. If there were camels involved, he was going to be walking and eating camel for breakfast. Fortunately, it was mostly cars and roads where Alex was pretty sure there were smoother parts of the moon. The car suddenly stopped. "If it's camels, I'm eating them for fucking breakfast."

In his defense, Alex was grouchy. Also, camels liked to spit. And the smell was god-awful. Ian gave him a look. "Language, Alex."

Lance snorted. "Like hell. We're checking for mines, short stack."

Ian gave Lance a look that suggested disembowelment was near in his future. Alex felt his eyebrow raise. "And we're taking this road?"

Fan-fucking-tastic. He was just not going to mention this to Jack or Yassen. Someone might call child services or something. After that, it was really slow going, but still better than walking, though not by much. Apparently, there were cleared areas, but some of them hadn't been cleaned up for whatever reason. Lance had given them both a full set of weapons, although Alex had made sure to test all of it and keep Smithers' gifts near him at all times. The knives were still in place, although the heat made the holsters stick uncomfortably. Actually, the heat made everything stick uncomfortably. His cousins better have a solid-ass reason to live in this water-deprived, war-torn shithole. American curse words sounded so much filthier, at least to him. If it was up to him, the next reunion was going to be in St. Petersburg… in the dead of winter. His gear still fit and the others… well, not his problem. Five feet of snow and Fenrir sounded wonderful right about now. As they got back in the car for about the billionth time that day, Alex wondered if letting his cousins blow up the neighborhood would be preferable. "Are we there yet?"

Lance just started snorting. "Ya get three of those before I start chucking knives."

Ian's eyes flashed furiously. "You get one knife throw before I shoot you in the head, heart, and stomach and proceed to hack you to pieces."

Alex felt his mouth drop open. Wasn't _Yassen_ supposed to be the trigger-happy, antisocial one? "I was kiddin', Jesus man."

Ian practically hissed. "Yeah, well, it isn't funny." The rest of the ride proceeded in a remarkable amount of silence.

* * *

They got to what initially looked like a makeshift city. The houses nearest to them were not passing a health inspection with bribes in USSR, as Joe would say. As in, they were mostly tents. In the distance, Alex could make out actual houses and what looked like a large black building. The mixed languages of Pashto and Dari completed the foreign environment. Alex had never experienced much of being a minority in a crowd and was surprised to feel slightly off. It was odd. The three of them drew significant stares from the children, though the adults seemed to know better or maybe they had seen more white people. He knew better than to open his mouth unless he had to. Lance took them through the streets at a brisk pace before they got to a part of the city that looked more built. The city seemed to get progressively more stable and permanent looking the further inward they went. Not to mention cleaner. Alex wasn't surprised at the stark contrast, but it made him glad England had some sort of safety net for the poor. Alex knew better than to linger, especially with Ian already giving out death threats. Granted, they weren't directed at him. Ian could still ground him. Alex hated being eleven sometimes. Then again, most of his 'hobbies' were useful, so Ian might have to think pretty hard to come up with something. But the last time, it had taken only a few minutes. Alex would try his hardest not to blow anything up. After looking up what prison consisted off in the area, he'd almost rather be shot. Plus, Yassen would be super pissy and Jack's reaction made him shudder internally. On second thought, he would definitely rather be shot. Tom and Jerry would never let him hear the end of it either.

* * *

Alex realized about halfway to the house that the crowds weren't the only thing that made him feel uncomfortable. It was the feel of them. The simmering, oozing rage that was threatening to ignite at any moment. Beneath it was fear, of what he wasn't sure, but it was enough to make him want to leave. This was a place where violence could erupt at any minute. The environment was tense and his situational awareness kicked into a degree he hadn't realized existed. It was as though everything was hitting him at once in its headache-inducing glory. A switch in his brain seemed to flip and he suddenly began to understand the snippets of conversation he was hearing almost fluently. Alex almost didn't realize that they were stopping until Ian glanced at him. " _Are you ok?"_

Alex took a deep breath. " _Fine. Is this the place?"_

Ian moved to knock on the door. " _It's the address they gave me."_

The door was opened by a very tan man who appeared to be in his sixties. " _Welcome. I'm your grandfather,_ Alex."

As the door swung shut behind them, Alex took in the man's fit build and was reminded vaguely of people from a certain island in Italy. The man's hair had clearly once been dark but was now in the middle of turning gray. Alex was reminded of the aging generals he saw on television. The rest of the family was seated in the dining room (he presumed) table. Alex slowly took in the rest of his family. There was a grown adult woman who had dark brown curls and brown eyes. She was fit to a military level. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Marion. There was a younger man seated at her opposite, the left side of the head of the table. His eyes and hair were dark. Were they half-siblings? He was seated at the table, but the pose and stillness seemed unnatural - like he was meant to be moving. The eyes had a certain fire in them, letting Alex know he was either insane or very, very intelligent. Darian, his mind supplied. The two teenagers were as still as he was, watching, cautious. Jason had a more ethnically Hispanic look. He was clearly going to end up very tall and well-built. Lillian seemed slight in comparison. She was as pale as he was tan. Her face was a creamy white that Alex could compare to the flower and her hair was a brownish red (actual red, not Jack's orange color). Her eyes were so blue, Alex checked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Her figure was tiny, and Alex was pretty sure she'd end up below average height. " _Hi, I'm_ Alex." He felt a little awkward. What was he supposed to say?

* * *

Marion was the first to speak. She smiled warmly. "Hello, Alex. We've been waiting so long to meet you."

She walked gracefully and utterly silently and pulled him into a hug. He did his best not to jump or stiffen. He wasn't really used to gratuitous hugs, even if Jack was the cuddly type. She ran her fingers through his hair. "It feels like your mother's when she was younger. You look more like your father, though."

Marion smelled surprisingly good considering the heat. Something spicy and cinnamon-y. She seemed pulled out of the hug and examined his face, gently tilting it. Marion seemed reluctant to let him go completely but did so when Ian cleared his throat with a cough that sounded suspect. She sauntered back to the table with the kind of grace Alex generally associated with Yassen Gregorovich. The rest of them stayed seated, as though waiting for some kind of cue. Patrick spoke next. "Let us eat. I'm sure you had a rough few days of travel."

The man took the seat at the head of the table. Alex sat next to his cousins and Ian reluctantly took the seat next to his other uncle. The ensuing silence was slightly stifling after everybody was served. "So...Lillian, What do you like to do?"

That seemed to be his cousin's cue to start spewing facts about herself and Jason. Alex was surprised she was so talkative. War Zones probably got lonely, he supposed. He noticed that he only earned a few things about her. Clever. She liked green; her favorite flowers were lilies (shocker); she and Jason didn't remember their biological families. After that, his other cousin spoke. Alex was surprised that his voice had already broken. He liked soccer, blue, and cacti. The adults were oddly silent. Not a good sign, but at least they weren't yelling at each other and shooting.

* * *

The time seemed to pass both quickly and slowly for the rest of the day. Alex figured it was the different time zones catching up with him. Perhaps the heat as well. In the rest of the afternoon, they stayed indoors and studied their respective topics. Alex was pleasantly surprised to find out that he was academically ahead of both his cousins (he did have an unfair advantage, but Jason was almost his mental age). Then again, his last year before his death had gotten him up to the college level, even if his grades hadn't reflected it. After helping Lillian with a trig problem, he decided that these two weren't that bad, even if they were suspicious little brats. "Can I call you Lily?"

It was better than Lilian, in his opinion. "Sure, Mum calls me that all the time. Err… Mum being Marion."

Alex shrugged. "Your parent figures, your business."

Jason was leaning rather heavily on both their shoulders. Apparently, Jason and Lily were being taught at the same rate. Alex figured it was because they were both accelerated enough as it was. Time to see if they had a sense of humor. "Mate lay off the donuts. My poor shoulder can't take both our weights."

Jason cuffed him. "Sure it's not malnutrition, cousin dearest?"

Alex grinned. "Just because you 'roided out like an American and hit puberty scarily early doesn't mean I'm suffering from stunted growth." Jason whacked him with a pillow and that pretty much ended any serious attempt to focus on academics. Especially as he may or may not have grabbed Lily's pillow for retaliation. He was totally mature. Totally. He definitely didn't get sucker punched by Lily at all. _Sure, keep telling yourself that._ Shut it, Grim. _Real mature there, short stack._ Alex rolled his eyes and focused on whacking his cousins with their pillows. Dinner pretty much went the same way. The adults glared at each other and Alex getting along with his cousins. Alex wondered what on the earth had gotten them _that_ wound up and decided to eavesdrop on any conversations they might have in private. What? He _had_ been a spy.

* * *

Alex slipped downstairs after they were sent to bed "so the adults could talk". Read: So we can argue with each other without upsetting you. His cousins shot him an incredulous look. "If you don't tell, I'll let you know what I overheard."

Two identical grins showed up. "Deal."

Alex slipped into the shadows and vanished from the sight of most people as they seemed to swallow him whole. On his tour around the house, he'd noticed the vents were all connected and not insulated, meaning he could hear the people in the dining room from the room next to it (the kitchen) with ease. If they got louder, he wouldn't even have to try to pick up the conversation. By the time he crept down the stairs, the adults seemed to have already gotten into it. "This is why I was against it in the first place, Marion, and _I_ don't interfere with _your_ household."

It was the most irritation he'd ever heard Ian express. "That is beside the point Ian _Rider_. Alex is as much part of our family as he is yours. You _have_ no _right_ -"

Ian interjected. " _I_ have _every_ right. The only reason you aren't in MI6 custody after what you did is because of _John_!"

Marion snorted. "Like you haven't done worse in the service of _your_ country."

Alex mentally groaned. "Alex has a _right_ to learn. Besides, you've been neglecting your duty in regards to the family customs on your side!"

Ian made a derisive noise in his throat. "The _outdated, archaic_ pile of pseudo-spiritual crap that is _more_ than _borderline brainwashing_? That part of the family history _dies with me_!" Ian was on a roll. "The _only_ thing from the Black Circle I will be passing down to Alex is their stealth and fighting abilities!"

Darian interjected. "We need a leader!"

Ian snarled. "Find someone else!"

Patrick spoke up for the first time. "He is the only one whose personality is suitable. We do have the power to remove him from your custody."

Alex froze, barely breathing. "You _utter_ bastard."

Ian snapped in equal parts fear and anger. Patrick didn't react. "Then we have an accord. You will teach him. In three years' time, if the other leaders are not satisfied, we will be taking over his education."

Ian let out a sound that was between a moan and a growl. "I should have shot the lot of you when I had the chance." The door slammed as Ian headed out the back of the house.

* * *

Alex mentally groaned and went upstairs to tell his cousins. He was now officially curious. Perhaps they would know about the family stuff or who or what the Black Circle was. All in all, it seemed like a _totally_ auspicious start to a _wonderful_ trip. As for being separated from Ian, they'd have to put up with both of their antics, plus he knew certain mercenaries would back him up. Griiim. _Pestilence?_

My psychotic extended family wants me to join a cult. _It could be a wonderful learning experience for you._

Riight. I swear you're getting off on my suffering. _No, Destiny is the one into BDSM. And screwing children over._

I really needed that mental image, Grim. _I'm primordial, we like cults._

Screw you, Grim. _You need to be at least one hundred before I'd consider it, pestilence._

One hundred?! You're sick in the head. _Mentally one hundred, twat. With your life expectancy, you'll probably be on your fifteenth life._

Alex suppressed his groan. Somehow, he knew this wasn't going to end well. Jason and Lily were practically bouncing. "You didn't get caught?! That's awesome."

Alex smiled. It was nice to have his skills appreciated for a change (cough, Blunt, cough). "No, I didn't. Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd clear a few things up for me. They mentioned some kind of family group. Umm...the Black Circle?"

Jason's eyes widened. "Marion's going to be pissed. You're supposed to know this stuff starting when you're, like, five or something."

Alex sighed. Lily picked it up from there. "The Black Circle is a secret group of the main families involved with the top spots in intelligence agencies and the occasional terrorist group. It's really against tradition to tell you, but really you should know. You're supposed to be the leader."

Alex hadn't really registered the fact that other people actually expected him to make decisions. "What?! Why?"

Lily sighed. "Marion will tell you, or Ian, like you were supposed to be told. You're in for a long couple of days, though. Fair warning."

Alex resisted groaning. "Just wonderful. Goodnight you two."

Jason ruffled his hair. "Goodnight."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The french above translates to 1) Me? But Why? 2) But, Uncle my heart is broken. I am also not a native french speaker, so mistakes are unintentional.


	32. A Different Kind of Education

So far, Alex got the feeling that Ian and Marion really hated each other. The passive-aggressive comments were going to drive him nuts if they weren't careful. "So you know about your great-grandparents, right?"

Alex's attention was drawn back to the present. Marion had decided to take him on an outing. In the middle nowhere. In a hot desert. "Nope. Just that they died before I was born."

Marion makes a choking noise in the back of her throat. "What have you been learning, then?" Alex shrugged. "Practical stuff mostly. Hand-to-hand and some weapon combat, basic medical knowledge, languages, and what I'm supposed to be learning in school."

Marion rubbed her eyes. "Right. I hoped Ian had been exaggerating for effect."

Alex snorted. "He usually understates things."

Marion huffs. "I guess I will tell you then."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "It all began shortly after the first World War." Alex was tempted to ask what. "The world was in turmoil, you see. The old powers had been beggared. Mighty nations were soon reduced to astronomical unemployment rates during the Great Depression. Ironically, of course, illegal immigration rates went significantly down. After all, no jobs were available. Both sets of your great-grandparents occupied minor government positions. They and a few like-minded colleagues founded the first generation of the Black Circle."

Alex sighed. "What is the Black Circle?"

Marion's eyes took on an unholy gleam. "An organization dedicated to maintaining the balance of the great world powers, especially intelligence agencies, governments, and a few of the more powerful crime syndicates."

Alex thought it sounded like a cult or the Illuminati, personally. "Like SCORPIA?"

Alex felt like he'd done something horrendously wrong the minute Marion looked pleased, like a panther that had been given live pray instead of dead meat. "Yes, dear child, exactly like SCORPIA." Alex felt every alarm on his creep-dar go off. "The English Riders, the German Webers, the French Bernards, the Bulgarian Dragovs, the Turkish Demirs, and the American Jones made up the original founders of the group. Over time, the Israeli Becketts, the Japanese Tanakas, the Italian Russos, the Chinese Chens, and the Russian Sokolovs joined in, though mainly after World War 2. Some of both phases of families have gone extinct. There was a bit of conflict and pushback after and during the Cold War." Yes, this sounded so safe and legal. Marion continued. "Essentially, only the Riders, Becketts, Tanakas, and Chens have any real influence still going, though the Webers, Dragovs, and Sokolovs still have surviving members. The rest of the families were completely eliminated through a combination of internal and external forces." Alex was not very reassured. Marion paused. "I think that's enough history for today."

Alex felt a little relieved. "What are we going to do then, for the rest of the day?"

Marion's eyes gleamed. "It's a surprise." Alex wondered if it was too late to run away screaming.

* * *

They drove for a while until they got to a place that looked empty. "Why are we stopping here?"

Alex instinctively knew to talk as quietly as possible. Marion sharpened visibly. The invisible shift had Alex on edge, as did the sadistic glee that seemed to be coming off of her. "It's time for you to learn about the realities of life."

Alex's heart began to race. Marion didn't check to see if he was following. "By the way, I wouldn't try to run if I were you. It's a long way through a barren desert back to the house." Alex wondered what the hell was going on. This reminded him a little too much of when one of the people he'd gone up against tried to get him to give up. There was what looked like a temporary building. The smell told him what exactly he'd walked into the minute the door opened. The combined mix of unwashed human and blood, among other things, made him gag. Oh god. She'd taken him to some kind of torture session. He began to gag but did his best not to show an outward reaction. She walked into a room with a man who was tied to a board. He'd clearly been there for a few of the worst weeks of what humanity could do to itself. "This man is a terrorist. He targeted women and children for terrorist attacks. I can't have him getting away and warning his little friends about what we now know. Kill him."

Alex's breath came in shallow. It was different. This man wasn't targeting Ian. "I can't. Not in cold blood."

Alex hated how he was almost pleading. Marion's eyes flashed dangerously. "Can't isn't an option."

Alex couldn't. "No." He drew his knives, knowing he would lose this fight, badly. Marion lips twisted into a fierce smirk as she drew her own knives.

* * *

Alex wondered how he got himself into these messes. He opened up into a fighting stance, but instead of the attack on himself he thought was coming, Marion suddenly twisted and ripped the man's throat open with her knife. Holy fuck. She was faster than Yassen. Alex felt his eyes involuntarily widen. "You see, Alex, your refusal was ultimately pointless. He still died."

Alex returned to his opening stance and inched closer to Marion. "Your point is moot, except that I now know you ruthlessly execute unarmed prisoners. Besides, it was not I who took his life."

Marion swiped at him. Alex dodged on instinct. The flash of steel told him just how close her knife had come. He returned with a stab of his toward her torso. Marion easily parried his hit. "Not bad for an eleven-year-old. But not good either. You dropped your guard."

This time he wasn't quite fast enough and her knife cut into the skin of his torso. He barely felt it. "Dead."

Marion said with a smirk. Suddenly, Alex exploded. He was sick and tired of being dominated in physical combat. Faster than he imagined he could move he swiped at her arm and torso. He was shocked as they actually hit. "Dead yourself, aunty _dearest_. Step away from the dying person and don't get overconfident, _remember_."

Marion grinned. She was a lunatic. He was so dead. "Wonderfully done, Alex."

Wait, what? Alex froze, took a look at the dead guy and looked back at Marion. "Sorry?"

Marion shrugged. "It happens. You are still in training after all. If anything I should have parried."

Alex mentally breathed a sigh of relief. "So, you're not mad?"

Marion snorted. "About the swipe? No. About the dead guy? You'll learn eventually, but you're still young."

Alex didn't really want to get to the point where he'd execute people on a whim, but he didn't think now was a good time to say as much. "So what now?"

Marion grinned. It was eerily like his own Cheshire grin. "Knife combat practice, and not that pussy throwing shit Ian likes to propagate. I mean, it's useful, but you'll need the stabby stuff more." Alex rolled his eyes and narrowly dodged the retaliatory swipe Marion aimed at him. Clearly, the family rivalry was still in place. It was going to be a long and knife-filled day. Alex figured he didn't actually mind Marion's milder versions of child abu- he meant combat training.

* * *

At the end of the day, Alex was sore as hell. He knew it would be worse the next morning. Marion had decided that five hours of knife combat training was just the thing he needed. By the end of it, he had a good instinct for how to dodge. He was also covered in obvious cuts that would allude to his activities throughout the day. The cuts were irritated and red, though they clotted at a normal rate. Marion took a look at him. "We're done for the day. Let's get you fixed up. The shower's in the back."

She tossed him a change of clothes. Alex sighed and went to the shower, for once grateful for the cool water. Coming out of the desert heat, it was a relief. He drank some as well. Once he felt like he was no longer dying of heat stroke, he got out and got dressed. Alex left his shirt off since he wasn't sure if he needed stitches or butterfly bandages on the one on his chest. Marion looked pleased with herself. "You'll want to leave those alone and try not to twist. She'd gotten a first aid kit from somewhere and preceded to disinfect every single cut. Only the one on his back and the one on his chest got anything besides the disinfectant. "You'll want to keep sand out of the rest of those."

Lucky the shirt was long-sleeved. Unfortunately, it was light colored. None of the cuts were on his face, at least. He only had one on his hand. His arms were kind of torn up, though. Alex decided he would probably live and got back in the car. He hoped dinner was soon because they'd skipped lunch and he was starving.

* * *

Ian Rider was pacing the living room of the Beckett's place. Alex and Marion were supposed to be back any minute now, but he wasn't reassured. Supposedly, she was training and assessing him, but Ian had a vague feeling that what Marion chose wouldn't remotely be age appropriate. He hated not knowing where Alex was or what he was doing, particularly in a war zone. The two younger ones had been remarkably unhelpful when he'd asked about what Marion's lessons could contain. He suspected it was on purpose and that they'd taken personal offense to Alex's ignorance of the family customs. Frankly, it was none of their business. Darian just hovered smugly and gave the kids lessons. Patrick was less than sympathetic. "You will have to let him go eventually."

Ian whirled mid-pace. "I have seven to eleven more years."

Patrick smirked. "You assume that you will be keeping custody for all of those, then."

Ian resisted chucking a knife at him. "Keep your grimy, sand and blood encrusted hands off my nephew."

Patrick raised an indigent eyebrow. "He is my grandson!"

Ian whirled in place and started his pacing anew. "Who you never met, _for a reason_."

Patrick sighed. "You are basing a grudge off one event and the fact that you do not like the old ways. Your Alex might take to them, you know."

Ian snorted. "He won't, you mangy old coot."

Patrick's smile was slightly predatory. "You don't know that." There was a pause. "Besides, as the last of his line, he very well doesn't have a choice. A pity you chose not to reproduce."

Ian grit his teeth. "Not that it is any of your business, but I don't like women."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "That has no bearing. Adoption is an accepted practice if you could not find a woman you could stand." Ian rolled his eyes. The elders had all grilled him about this at one point or another after John's death. Ian froze as he heard the door open. "Besides, you assume Alex will accept your sexuality and your crimes in and outside the Black Circle."

Well, he'd hoped he'd have been gentler in breaking the news to Alex. Alex strode in. "Not that it's any of your business, gramps, but I don't really care."

Ian felt instantly relieved. "About the crimes or the fact that Ian likes men."

Ian felt a warm sunny feeling inside. "Now, all of you play nice and quit accusing each other."

Alex whipped around and went upstairs. Darian slow clapped after Alex was gone. "Congrats you two. I'm outta here. Maybe the brat has the right idea about taking a walk." Darian left. Dinner was going to awkward as hell.

* * *

Jason and Lily were staring wide-eyed at him as he entered the room. They immediately softened when they saw he wasn't mad. Jason delicately approached him with a surprising amount of grace. "You look like shit, cousin."

Alex grinned. "Your crazed mother had a billion goes at me with a knife. Aren't I pretty?"

Lily giggled. Jason grinned. "I think the blood loss is getting to you cousin, best take a nap."

Alex took off his shirt and lay on the bed. Jason plopped down next to him and Lily followed after. "What are you two doing?"

Jason grinned. "Listening to your heartbeat to make sure you don't die."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You could just ask to cuddle."

Lily grinned. "But then, we wouldn't get to be snarky." Alex sighed and ran his hands through her hair. It was courser than it looked. With the cool air conditioning and soothing warmth, he fell asleep with surprisingly little trouble. Jason was running his hand through his hair and made a surprisingly nice pillow. It was nice. Having family besides Ian to hold and cuddle with. Alex let out a contented sigh and dropped into unconsciousness.

* * *

The call for dinner sounded all too soon. Alex woke up and felt vaguely nauseous. This was why he hated naps. Well, he was starving. He grabbed the white shirt to put on and delicately checked the butterfly bandages on his chest and back. Ian would have an apoplectic fit if he found out about Marion's training methods. The marks would fade after they healed anyway. His cousins were already shoving their textbooks and homework into various spots around their room. Jason was staring. "You're kind of cute, you know."

Alex ran his hands through his hair. "Oh, shove it up your ass, Jason."

Jason grins. "And there's the Alex we know and love."

Alex grabbed a glass of water and felt the last of his nausea fade as he finished it. They went down the stairs together. Ian took one look at him and glared at Marion. "He took a nap. Alex _hates_ taking naps."

Alex mentally groaned. Ian was kind of overprotective sometimes. "I don't after five hours of close quarter's knife combat training, Ian."

Alex managed to gracefully sit down. He decided to let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like America. Ian looked slightly guilty or a second before shutting up. Lily had a mischievous grin. She batted her eyelashes in a semblance of an innocent expression. "What happened in America?"

Ian and Alex exchanged a look. "Oh, nothing."

He was just stalked by a future assassin, taken on endless survival trips, and potentially traumatized by killing a deer with Ian's exact eye-shade. Not to mention supposedly stalked by an actual assassin. Yeah, he was guilt-tripping Ian now. Ian gave him one of the trademark mischievous grins. "Yes, absolutely nothing happened."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Now they'll never leave me alone, Ian."

Ian manic grin would have alarmed the calmest special operations veterans. "I believe, nephew dearest, that falls under _not my problem_."

Alex gave Ian his best wide-eyed innocent look. "But Ian, leaving me with my crazy relatives is child abuse."

Darian burst out laughing. "Aww, we love you too."

Lily made a very rude gesture at him. Patrick actually cracked a smirk. "It is impolitic to mention."

Alex grinned. "You're not denying it." This time everyone started snorting.

* * *

Ian pulled Alex aside after dinner. It was one of the few times Alex had ever seen his uncle fidget awkwardly. "So, about earlier-"

Alex snorted. "It really is fine, Ian. I used to set the church services on fire to 'make them more illuminating', remember."

Ian chuckled. "And that was when you weren't sneaking off to break into the Tower of London during the new security upgrade demonstrations."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, and you took Tom and me out for ice cream after we succeeded, Mr. Responsible Guardian."

Ian shrugged. "You made my week. The expression on O'Conner's face was priceless when he realized two kids got past his 'genius' arrangement. Besides, I'm pretty much an atheist in case you hadn't noticed."

Alex snorted. "Oh, well."

Ian pulled him into a hug. Alex made an effort to ignore the effects of the weight on his cuts and succeeded in not stiffening or flinching. "Besides, I don't appreciate his very unsubtle attempt to break us up."

Ian sighed. "That's nice, Alex, but why are you bleeding?"

Alex felt his stomach drop at the question. "Uh, Marion got a little over-enthusiastic during knife practice."

Ian hissed. "Show me."

Alex sighed and unbuttoned his shirt. "I swear I'm going to-"

Alex cut him off. "Do absolutely nothing."

Ian growled. It was rather like living with an overprotective panther sometimes. "She practically mauled you."

Alex waved him off. "It'll heal. I'm putting my shirt back on now." Ian hissed something that could not be repeated in polite company under any circumstances.

* * *

Ian Rider was furious. That Mossad bitch had decided to use Alex for knife practice. He didn't care what Alex said. Alex was an eleven-year-old who sent taunting notes to assassins. Clearly, Alex had little to no accurate threat assessment. His nephew had wandered back into the house when it was clear the conversation was over. He stalked back into the house. Marion was sitting in the living room. Patrick was seated in the armchair and Darian was hovering in the corner. The man never seemed to sit down when Ian was around. They had been waiting for him, apparently. Ian checked to make sure the kids weren't around. Good, he could take off the gloves then. "What do you fuckers want now?"

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Such acrimony, Ian, you need to relax."

Ian tensed. "Not while you Mossad cunts cut up my nephew for a bit of fun."

Marion ignored his manners. "Today was his assessment, silly. We all get a bit roughed up during those."

Ian grit his teeth. "And?"

Darian smirked. "You must be proud. Alex is ahead in scholastics and combat. The only thing he seems to be lacking in is his Black Circle knowledge."

Ian mentally cursed the public records. "Those fuckers in education never could keep their records private."

Marion sighed. "He is also unwilling to kill in cold blood. Even tried to fight me for it."

Ian resisted the urge to backhand her. "I should bloody well hope so. He's bloody eleven!"

She acted like it was a bad thing. Plus, it would keep terrorists away. Nothing said I'll fit right into your organization like a murder before the age of eighteen, never mind Alex had already shot one terrorist. "On the other hand, he seems to be perfectly willing to defend the family."

Ian kept from reacting. "What makes you think so? It could just be me."

Ian knew full well it wasn't. Marion's lips twisted. "Well, he already cares for Lily and Jason. And, you know, there is...this…" The TV suddenly switched on to surveillance footage that was sickeningly familiar.

* * *

**A very concerned pair of brown eyes met Alex's. "Ian?"**

**Ian replied. "In the flesh. Nice to know you're alive."**

**There was a pause. Alex had a guilty expression. "Now, would care to explain to me why you have shrapnel burns all over and gunpowder residue on your hands."**

**The reply was barely audible. "I saved you."**

* * *

Marion paused the video. "Shall we continue, or did I get my point across?"

Ian sighed. He was going to have to call Tulip and tell her to scan the hospital for bugs, again. "Fuck you."

Marion smirked. "I don't think you'd enjoy it much, as I recall you prefer men."

Darian shrugged. "I'd do you."

Ian snapped back. "I have standards, thank you."

Puke. They were practically _related_. Though, he wasn't sure if _that_ counted as a plus or not with these lunatics. Best to bring up consent, which he knew they actually cared about. Patrick interjected. "Thank you, _children_. Moving on, I assume none of you are considering arranged marriages for the _actual_ children."

That drew shouts of protest from all three of them. Patrick sighed. "No is just fine. No need to shout obscenities loud enough to wake the street."

Patrick breathed out slowly as they quieted down. "Now, the next family reunion will occur in the summer of next year due to Alex's _knowledge_ deficit."

Ian interrupted. "The hell it will. You said I had three years."

Patrick glared. "That is my decision a _paterfamilias_ of the Beckett's, whose blood Alex carries. Though we are even in rank, Ian _Rider_ , if I bring this to a full Black Circle I _will_ win this case and most likely custody of Alex."

Ian resisted the urge to punch something. "Fine."

Patrick sighs. "It is only a few weeks, you still have primary educational control and custody, and we are Alex's family, too, _Rider_."

There was a pause. "And we will allow you to choose the locations as well, I suppose."

Ian felt a little better. Patrick mentally breathed a sigh of relief. The Rider family may make brilliant operators, but they had a notorious mental instability when it came to interference in family matters. "Finally, training programs for the next two weeks are due at dawn. Each of you (including me) gets time with all three children. You all have different specialties after all." The four adults all decided to suck it up so they wouldn't have to pull an all-nighter.

* * *

Alex noticed that the adults seemed to all be taking turns with them on some sort of weird little schedule they'd spent the night making. Darian had been up first (starting that morning). It was time to review bomb-making, apparently. He started all three of them on diagrams from both Hamas and Mossad. At least now Alex knew who to pin all of his explosions on. They were supposed to have them memorized by the end of the week. And be able to answer conceptual questions. Next had been dear old Gramps. Alex had a bit of an advantage due to the books Sarov had sent him, the book Yassen had sent him, and his old missions. The old general had even slipped a personal, handwritten one in the back of the last book. It had been war, guerrilla warfare, and improvisational battle tactics. Well, it had started out as a lesson. Then it had turned into theoretical quiz time for Alex and eventually led to him theoretically defeating one of the most secure bases in the world. The old fart seemed actually impressed for a second. He'd decided to focus on the war and guerrilla warfare bits, so Alex wouldn't be bored. Lily and Jason had just started looking hopelessly lost around a quarter of the way through quiz time, so Alex helpfully wrote them a booklist of all the legal books. Marion had decided to drag them out for regular firing lessons. Apparently, instinctive firing was useless for long-distance shots. She'd told him as much on the range after she delightedly challenged him to a shooting competition. And sent her children a significant look as she told him that his other, secret instructor was welcome anytime in the house. Alex highly doubted that either Yassen Gregorovich or Gordon Ross would ever be welcome in their house, but stranger things had happened. Alex had tried to play dumb. "I don't know what you're talking about."

Marion had just snorted. "Honey, I've been using that one since before you were born. Everybody who knows squat knows Ian Rider has neither the inclination nor the aptitude to learn the assassin's style. It's okay to have other specialties, you know."

Alex wondered if Ian had been banned until late that night when they were dragged out for the kiddie version of night exercises. It was eerily like Malagosto. His chest was now sore from being sniped with paintballs and sliced open. Alex decided to text Yassen when he finally got a private moment at the end of the week.

* * *

_-C_

_My relatives are officially evil._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen smirked at the text. This had to be entertaining. He was getting bored training his apprentice and nothing else. Rhea was beyond minimum standard for Malagosto, of course, but he wanted her to be the top of every class by a wide margin. He had a board to satisfy and a reputation to maintain. Not to mention, Alex would be upset if she died.

* * *

_-A_

_And what brought on your sudden wave of paranoia and common sense?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex loved texting Cossack. It always cheered him up. Besides, he could just picture the shit-eating smirk on Yassen's face as he read Alex's text. At least he had someone who was basically a captive audience biased in his favor.

* * *

_-C_

_My agenda for the week includes: night exercises, memorizing Mossad and Hamas bomb plans, regular shooting, war strategy for regular and guerrilla warfare, and night exercises. I'm a growing child!_

_-A_

* * *

Well, if Alex ever got tired of moralizing. Yassen had a job suggestion for him. It was the kind of skill set that would give D'Arc wet dreams. As for the training schedule, he was sure Alex would manage, somehow.

* * *

_-A_

_Somehow, you will live. And exceed expectations, no doubt. I might just have to take another apprentice in a few years._

_-C_

* * *

That was what passed for sarcasm in Yassen-land. He hoped. Oh, well. He was sure that Ian would help him with anything Yassen involved. With selective information, of course. At least the dry lack of sympathy was on point.

* * *

_-C_

_You haven't got the teaching bug have you? I knew you'd come around._

_-A_

* * *

Bullshit he did. There were only two acceptable apprentices on the planet and he had regular conversations with both of them. He would never much enjoy the company of others, but Alex and Rhea were _tolerable_.

* * *

_-A_

_No. And Rhea is doing just fine. She will be Malagosto's next top student, with a survival probability of over 90%._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Yassen was just so antisocial. It was funny, as long as it wasn't you on the receiving end of his...poor anger management skills and disproportionate reactions. A bit like a head injury, in fact.

* * *

_-C_

_I have to go. I get like zero privacy in this house and aunty is already suspicious._

_-A_

_P.S. If anyone asks, I'm allergic to wanted lists._

* * *

Yassen sighed. It wasn't really fair to want more, but he was starting to. Rhea was simply there. Alex was actually fun. Alec Pierre in this case. SCORPIA would question them both about their meeting and Yassen already had a plan. As far as they were concerned, Alec Pierre was a grown man with brown hair and brown eyes with multiple bank accounts. Rhea knew the drill. She met a man who knew a guy. Yassen would claim it was someone who owed him a favor, but otherwise worked freelance for the intelligence agencies only. It would hold up to scrutiny.

* * *

_-A_

_A wiser woman than your uncle, apparently. Do go if you have to. I will send you 'Alec Pierre's' legend, since you sent me the minimal paperwork you had for the legend. Memorize the details and attempt to keep it up on paper at least. It is not an insignificant amount of work, but it will help your cover._

_-C_

* * *

Alex felt a warm, fuzzy feeling. Yassen was forging paperwork for him now, apparently. He must be really worried about the board. Alex wondered why. What would they want with good old Alec Pierre, the flaky HR specialist who was allergic to wanted lists? He sighed softly. They couldn't need people that badly. He hoped. They were certainly better off than intelligence agencies, he knew. He hid the phone as he was called down for dinner.

* * *

Nile was honestly puzzled. Yassen had somehow gotten an apprentice without the board or any of the usual suspects involved. They weren't omniscient where Gregorovich was concerned, but they liked to stay knowledgeable. The fact that Yassen had gone outside SCORPIA resources seemed to have been almost expected by the others. Nile could only wonder at who he could have possibly gone to. There were very few people who could meet Yassen Gregorovich and come out alive multiple times. Fewer still were the ones that SCORPIA didn't know about. The man _was_ freelance, but people in certain echelons of the underworld tended to know each other. Normally, permission was at least asked. There were very few _actual_ independent contractors. If Nile had to bet on someone knowing one in SCORPIA, it would be Yassen. And it had to be an independent contractor. Now, all SCORPIA needed was a name or an alias or a description. Something, because someone that good was clearly wasted if they hadn't heard of them. Or perhaps they were in a position to demand absolute secrecy from Gregorovich and everybody else. And that would mean they were a danger. Someone like that wouldn't be free for long. And SCORPIA knew that they had a limited time window once the name began to circle around in other places. Yassen could keep quiet, but there was gossip that reached other ears, even here.

* * *

Yassen got the call he had been expecting that day. Gordon Ross would be coming to inspect their progress. Cossack would have a month or two after that to report to the school with his student. He wasn't worried and neither was Rhea. It was clear to both of them that she would try her hardest. Ross would be impressed. Then again, his view of acceptable standards was far above the island's lowest acceptable standards. He mentally sighed. Between Alex and Rhea, he was starting to feel actually responsible. A rustle drew his attention and he turned and drew his knife just in time to parry Rhea's thrown one. "Acceptable. But if you are after an experienced target, you will need to work on your approach and draw."

This wasn't actually too bad. Plus, his student always improved after every attempt. "Yes, sir."

Yassen picked the knife up off of the ground. "Gordon Ross will be coming to assess you tomorrow, as you know. If anyone asks, Alec Pierre is a man with brown hair and brown eyes."

Rhea's lips twitched. "Yes, sir."

Yassen sighed. "He owed me a favor, which was repaid by introducing the two of us and otherwise works exclusively for intelligence agencies. His mental imbalances make him an unsuitable candidate for employment in the organization."

Rhea grinned. "In other words, he's crazy."

Yassen swats the top of her head lightly. "He is brilliant at his job."

Rhea grinned. "He's still crazy. And that sounds nothing like Alec, except the last part."

Cossack smirks. "That is something of the point."

Rhea sighed. "I was afraid we were going to give them actual clues for a minute."

Gregorovich twitched. "And have them meet our dear Alec? It would end in a giant fireball, I think."

Rhea grinned. "With Alec miraculously unscathed and the others charred to the bone."

Cossack huffed. "Yes, brat, now back to training."

* * *

Alex Rider had gotten sick of being startled out of bed at night, so he decided to sleep lighter than usual, all he had to do was get himself back into the mission mindset. Alex's eyes flicked open the minute Ian and Marion stepped into the hall. He gripped his throwing knives firmly under the covers and tossed both of them at Ian and Marion when they opened the door. He made it so neither of the knives was in danger of actually skewering them. Ian looked shocked and Marion grinned manically. "Time for different exercises."

That ended up with him and his cousins being handcuffed to the chairs and having until dawn to escape. Alex being as paranoid as he was had, in fact, slept with his lock picking set. It was now coming in handy. Jason and Lily had just given him an amused look when he managed to unlock the three of them in under twenty minutes. "Not paranoid at all are you?"

Alex whacked him. "Shut it, you. Besides I didn't hear you complaining about it while I was lock-picking your handcuffs."

Lily rubbed his arm sympathetically. "I'm sure it's just the sleep deprivation."

Alex shrugged and muttered under his breath. And then he got an idea. He would be sooo grounded for this, but it would be totally worth it. The evil grin spread across his face. Lily looked faintly uneasy. "Um, Alex, you look like mum when she gets a new torture idea."

Alex kept grinning. "Don't worry, this one is harmless, mostly. Would you like to prank the adults?"

The two were wearing grins identical to Alex's. Jason was the first to speak. "Oh, I'm in."

* * *

Ian Rider and the rest of the adults were rudely awoken by the sound of the dining room table exploding. Ian groaned. The constant activities were wearing even them down. Ian decided he was going to ignore that and go back to sleep. Unfortunately, his other relatives had decided to wake him up. He felt one of them lightly poke him. Ian groaned, rolled over, put his pillow over his head and pretended like he wasn't an adult with children to take care of. He felt one of them sit on him. "Get off."

He tossed the pillow at the other one. They were both smirking. "Real mature, guys. What were you going to do next? Lick me?"

Darian smirked. "No, but great idea. I'm sure you'd taste wonderful."

Ian punched him in the shoulder. "Standards, remember. And we're practically related."

Marion just snorted. "You English and your propriety."

Ian retorted. "It's called common decency."

Ian threw him off and on to the floor. Darian began to gear up for an argument. Marion whacked them both upside the head. "Boys. Breakfast, exploding tables, children."

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. "Right."

Patrick walked into the doorway. "You three quit planning your three-way and move your asses to the dining room! If this was an attack we would have been overrun by even the fucking Costa Ricans by now!"

Ian got up and dressed, but not before shouting. "Costa Rica doesn't _have_ an army!"

Patrick paused in the hall. "Exactly!"

Ian huffed. Git. Marion and Darian were still mime-gagging at the mental image. "We're _actually_ related!"

Patrick snorted. "Doesn't stop some."

Darian waited until Patrick was down the stairs. "Old perv. I blame the army."

Ian snorted. "I'll have you know that the British armed forces are a perfectly respectable establishment!"

Marion grinned. "Yes, for gays. Now, breakfast."

Ian yelled loud enough for the entire house to hear. "MARION!" The two Israelis were still laughing when the three adults got down the stairs.

* * *

When they got to the kitchen all four adults were confronted with the sight of their exhausted, but smug charges. And a completely obliterated dining room. The table seemed to have vaporized into needle-sized wood chips. Darian grinned madly. "Ice cream time, I've never had a prouder day in my life."

Alex's shocked expression was priceless. Ian facepalmed. And Jack accused him of being terrible at parenting. Marion just started giggling madly. Patrick just shook his head. "I knew we should have drowned them in a well as children."

Darian and Marion yelled. "Hey!"

Alex grinned. "Is for horses."

There was a collective groan. Ian wished he'd never gotten out of bed this morning. "The adults, Ian not the children. They've done wonderfully in applying their lessons."

Ian wondered if he'd been drugged. He was barely resisting the temptation to whack his head against the wall. Alex, still covered in wood chips and ash, walked over and patted his arm. "It's okay, Ian. Coffee will make everything better."

Ian just snorted. "I'm afraid no amount of coffee is going to materialize a new dining table."

Patrick rolled his eyes. "We keep a spare one in the attic. This usually happens at some point. No more blowing up furniture unless we are under attack children."

Ian just sat in the living room. "Yes, grandpa."

Wonderful. He was trapped in the house with a bunch of lunatics. Lunatics who were encouraging Alex's clear pyromania. Ian wondered if it wasn't too late to crawl back into bed. Alex slipped into the living room midway through cleanup. "So, should we keep a spare dining room table?"

Ian moaned. "Don't even think about it. We live with and as civilians."

Alex shrugged. "True."

Ian sighed. "So how have you been liking your family reunion?"

Alex's face twisted into a wry smile. "It's a different kind of education, to be sure." Ian chuckled.


	33. Greetings and Goodbyes

The last week had been spent on different types of code-breaking. The night exercises had halted and they got firearms and strategy training. The mess had been cleaned up within the day, except for the occasional embedded wood chip. Alex barely got time to himself to text Yassen or call Jack. All in all, it was fun of the spy variety. At least he knew tons of different ways to blow stuff up. His relatives didn't actually seem too bad, but then Alex remembered. The first couple of days. He and Ian packed to prepare to go. Alex waited until Ian went up to sleep and the pulled his cousins aside. "What is it?"

Alex sighed and took out his organized crime phone. "If you ever need help, call this number. Give it to the others after I go. For non-critical stuff, just write letters, OK?"

Jason and Lily looked puzzled. "Got it."

Alex handed them the note. "Burn it when you're done. Don't tell Ian. Goodnight."

Alex went inside to go to bed but was yanked into the kitchen by Marion. "That was nice of you."

Alex removed his arm from her grasp. "Not really. I'd do the same for all of you."

Marion smiled slightly. She looked sad and oddly distant. "The guardians and leaders are always the first to go. Goodnight, Alex."

Alex groaned. The sanity of his relatives was in doubt. He wondered what had made them so...intense. Lily and Jason seemed pretty normal, but they were adopted. It could have been the war or Mossad, he supposed. Alex had no idea what kind of mental conditioning they used. There were times that they didn't seem to comprehend normal ideas of society, but he supposed that was why they made their home in a war-zone. Marion seemed just a little off. He would guess interrogations was her actual specialty. Darian was...paranoid, if Alex was being honest, he seemed kind of spy-y and assassin-y, Gramps had probably been some sort of general. Alex would peg Jason as either assassin or soldier. Lily would probably end up as either an explosives expert or in interrogations, like Marion. In other words, just your normal, average, everyday family (not!). Alex decided to go to sleep. It would be a long couple of days.

* * *

Gordon Ross was pleasantly surprised after he concluded his assessment. Yassen had almost managed to act like he had social skills and his apprentice would make a wonderful addition to their elite operatives after her training was wrapped up. He had been surprised about the age, but SCORPIA would consider Rhea a full adult. Sixteen and already pleasantly deadly. She seemed to have gotten a bit of Gregorovich's antisocial tendencies, but since she could still manage a polite greeting that sounded semi-sincere it could probably be let go. He began to type up her profile as he thought about the oddness of the whole thing a bit more. Gregorovich refuses to go near SCORPIA recruits and gets his own apprentice. What kind of person 'just happened' to meet potential child assassins _and_ owed _Yassen Gregorovich_ a favor? Alec Pierre apparently. Rhea had heavily implied that he wasn't _all there_ so to speak, but SCORPIA could handle a certain level of crazy if you were competent enough. Gregorovich had said and he quoted: 'Dear Alec's unique mental process allowed him to find me an apprentice, but in turn makes him unsuitable for SCORPIA.' That told Gordon absolutely nothing useful. Was he on the autism spectrum or something? That didn't make sense. Manic/depressive? There was no way Cossack would put up with either. Maybe he had issues with organizations? That could be it. Gordon knew from first-hand experience that some organizations were not exactly employee friendly, if you had the option to voluntarily choose your career in the first place. He could've been forced into service and then gone freelance. Ross wondered if he was projecting. But still, who the hell wouldn't fit into SCORPIA? They could handle lunatics, you know.

* * *

Ian was waiting for him in the morning of the way back. Alex was surprised when they were alone for the journey. "Where do you want to go?"

Alex considered it for a moment. "At the moment, home."

Ian tilted his head. "We can do that. I did promise you a nice vacation, though."

Alex gave him a look. "You usually pick that sort of stuff, though."

Ian gave him a droll look. "Right, can I think about it for a while?"

Ian shrugged. "Sure. We can even plan the one for next Christmas or summer together."

Alex felt a faint smile appear. "That sounds nice, Ian."

He wondered if the man would take him to some more exotic locations if he asked. Probably. China would be nice to practice his Mandarin. He'd heard good things about Japan and Indonesia. Alex had a personal thing against Australia (ASH, cough), so that was out. He'd been to the US recently. South America had the Amazon, but he really didn't want to do any more jungle survival trips for a while. Greece could be interesting, but he didn't really want to chance running into the nutter who wanted to ruin the America-Great Britain alliance. Siberia contained a very vengeful Zeljan Kurst. Plus, snow survival was worse than jungle survival in his opinion. Not to mention he already owned a very possessive wolf, who would probably attack any wolf he inevitably adopted. Ian would be grumpy if he brought back another pet, too. Really, Fenrir wasn't that dangerous. The guys at MI6 were just a bunch of paranoid animal-abusing twits. Thailand and Cambodia were also out. Mongolia was not the kind of place one went on vacation in. Hawaii, maybe? Alex actually enjoyed beaches when they weren't full of murdering lunatics. Cuba was definitely out with Ian's job and the paranoia about spies they had there. There had been yet another attempt on Castro recently, if the man was telling the truth, at least. Mexico was definitely out and so was civilized South America, unless he wanted to mess with the CIA and the cartels. Antonio would also insist they meet up. Ian would then either have a stroke or go after the man with reckless abandon. Alex decided he had a while to decide this sort of thing and kept turning over different spots in his head for most of the way home.

* * *

The trip back from the family reunion had been hot, dry, and uneventful. Alex was really relieved to be back home. It was, once again, three in the morning when they returned. Alex was greeted by a joyful howl loud enough to wake the entire block and promptly tackled by Fenrir. Jack walked out in her nightclothes. "I'm glad you're back in one piece."

Alex grinned as Fenrir messed his hair up. "So am I."

Crawley came out in a full suit a few minutes later to greet Ian. "Thank, God. Jones was ranting forever when she heard you went to that shithole."

Alex grinned, still pinned under Fenrir. "I'm sure she was contextually mentioning the lack of army, human rights, and the tenuous political stability in an entirely professional manner."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "You wouldn't be laughing if you'd seen her send agents to counts sloths in Siberia."

Alex tried to nudge Fenrir off. It wasn't working. "Aren't they native to Africa?"

Crawley smirked. "Exactly."

Alex turned his attention to the horse-sized wolf. "Are you going to get off anytime soon, furball?"

The wolf promptly sat all the way on top of him. Ian smirked. "Looks like a no. I told you pets were a bad idea."

Tom and Jerry walked into the hall moments later. "Yeah, Al, everybody knows horse-sized dogs are weird."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Like you were complaining when you helped me fix him up."

Tom and Jerry both snorted. "You and the giant dangerous animals, Alex. You have a problem and this is your intervention."

Alex snorted. "Tom, you're not funny."

Tom grinned. "Aw, then why are you laughing?"

Alex managed to nudge Fenrir off of him. "To spare your delicate feelings, Tom."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Sure, Alex, just keep telling yourself that."

Ian sighed. "Bedtime, everyone. It _is_ three in the morning."

The crowd in the halls dispersed. Alex and Tom headed towards their rooms. When they got up the stairs and the hall was clear, Tom grabbed Alex. "It's been lonely without you. Welcome home."

Alex embraced his friend. Tom shot a hesitant look at him when they got to his room. Alex shrugged. "You can stay if you want." The dog followed them in. Needless to say, the bed contained two boys and their dog that night.

* * *

Jack smiled and headed down to her room. All of her boys were home and the darn dog still liked him better. She was out before her head hit the pillow.

* * *

Ian and Crawley ascended the stairs together. "Ian, you went to a war-zone."

Ian sighed. "Crawley, the crazy relatives would have burned down half of London if we hadn't gone. They did it with three cities in different years to prove a point."

Crawley groaned. "That's called a credible terror threat you call in."

Ian shrugged. "We're back now, besides, I get to pick the location for the next ones."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Well, that's a relief. They might burn down somewhere actually important, now. I know how you like to travel."

Ian grinned. "Well, I can't exactly stand them up."

Crawley grabbed Ian's arm before he could turn into the hall with the master bedroom. "You better make nice with Jones."

Ian shrugged. "Not like I haven't done worse and come back. Besides, I'm not getting any younger."

Crawley glanced around the hall. "Oh, I wouldn't say you're old."

Crawley shot what he hoped was a subtle look at Ian's frame. He swallowed and attempted to ignore the current thought line. What he really wanted to do was shove Ian up against the wall and have at him. Ian just gave him the heart-stopping, smoldering look, complete with a smirk. "Why, Crawley, I would swear that was bordering on not safe for work."

Crawley mentally moaned. Yeah, like he wouldn't just let Ian do him. This was so unfair. "Oh, but, Ian, you can do all your not safe for work activities with me any time."

Ian was close to letting his control snap. They were oh, so close to his bedroom. Everybody thought they were screwing anyway. Ian brushed his hand experimentally against Crawley's cheek. He turned his voice to a sultry purr. "You know, Crawley, I just might."

Crawley felt whatever was left of his restraint leave him. He yanked open Ian's bedroom door pulled Ian in and locked the door behind him before yanking Ian into a kiss. He hadn't done it before with a man, but it was way better than kissing his ex-wife. Ian pulled off his tie and began to move his mouth onto his neck and, Oh that was nice. Then, Ian began to move onto his chest. His shirt came off before Ian paused. "Do you want this?"

Crawley reached for Ian. "Hell, yes."

* * *

John Crawley felt like purring when he woke up in Ian's bed. It had been everything he imagined and way better. He was ever so slightly sore, but it was well worth it. He shot an admiring glance at Ian's half-covered form. The brown hair, faint tan, and lightly corded muscles drew him toward Ian again. He checked the clock. God damn it. They were supposed to be a work soon. Or rather, he was. Ian could show up any time he liked. "Ian get up."

Ian didn't stir at all. Crawley leaned in and traced his lips lightly over Ian's collarbone, letting his teeth lightly scrape the man's neck. He felt the man shift under him and grab the back of his head, pressing them together. "Ian. I have to work."

Ian ran his hands down Crawley's back and huffed out a breath. "Fine, you tease, but first I'm going to kiss you good morning."

Crawley was then treated to the most delicious, conscious-thought melting kiss that was bordering on morning making out instead. Not that he was complaining. Ian let him go and smirked. "Have a nice day Crawley."

That voice alone was almost enough to get him off. Looks like his morning shower was going to be slightly above freezing. Ian grinned like a Cheshire cat when Crawley went to take his shower. At least he wasn't going to be the only one eager to leave the office anymore. Ian tried not to smirk as he imagined Crawley trying to explain his excessive amount of hickeys to Jones. What could he say? He liked marking the man up as his now. Besides, Crawley was nice to have in bed. He'd had a few people here and there, but not anybody he could've been with long-term. Ian stretched out in bed and decided to get up. He walked into the bathroom. Ian went to the sink but then decided to feel the shower. Icy. Crawley gave him a suspicious look through the shower stall. Ian smirked. "Cold showers are bad for you, Crawley."

Crawley groaned. Having naked Ian in here was doing the exact opposite of the effect he was trying to achieve. Ian flicked the water on to a nicer temperature. "Why don't we find out why shower sex is considered a health hazard by the safety department?"

Crawley let out a moan as Ian stepped in and began to neck him. Any coherent thought promptly vanished as Ian lightly pushed him into the wall and stepped forward.

* * *

Alex Rider was one of the more observant people on the planet. When Crawley came down later than usual with about three visible hickeys he just sipped his tea and got on with his life. He grinned as he realized he could tease Ian about his now existent sex life. Not to mention Crawley. The others were sitting at the breakfast table and wrapping it up. "Long night, Crawley?"

The man rolled his eyes. "Real mature."

Alex grinned. "Oh, but I think you and Ian were being the _mature_ ones last night."

The three people behind him promptly choked on their breakfast. Jack turned bright red. "Do you want some breakfast to go?"

Crawley mentally facepalmed. Saved by the housekeeper. "That would be wonderful, Ms. Starbright."

Neither of them could get Crawley out the door fast enough. Jack looked at him. "Whaaat?"

She kept glaring. "Fine, fine. I'll leave him alone after the usual death threats I give your dates."

Jack looked satisfied. She ruffled his hair affectionately. "You always were such a sweet boy."

Tom promptly choked on his pancakes in an attempt to keep from laughing. Jerry thumped him on the back. "Sorry, Jack, he does that at breakfast sometimes. I tell him to take smaller bites."

Alex withheld his own laughter at Jerry's lie. Then again, most of his pranks this time around had been on the school instead of Jack or her dates. Jack walked out of the room to brush her teeth, leaving the boys alone. "So, how have you been?"

Jerry shrugs. "Better. The parents didn't even show up to contest custody. Got stuck arguing on the way to the court and walked in after the judge ruled in Crawley and Jack's favor."

Alex smiled. He was glad that at least one of his friends was no longer in a dangerous household. Besides, Tom and Jerry were fun to have around and he didn't see any problems with using his special skills to help himself personally for once. Being an assassin might be over his line, but helping out friends and family definitely wasn't. He just wanted to keep everybody safe.

* * *

Nile was puzzled. The only electronic references he could find to anybody named Alec Pierre was a bank account in Switzerland and a few papers in the French legal system for a French-British national who was supposedly in his early twenties and didn't have so much as a parking ticket. No voting records either. A fake, then, but one the man had probably had professionally done. Not that he was surprised. For someone who was evasive the way that man was, Nile was surprised to find any details. Then again, people must have some way of contacting him. Yassen might have him on speed dial, but the rest of the world either knew him by a different name or was more terrified of him than SCORPIA. Or they were all actually loyal to their organizations. It had happened with a few assets for both sides before. If you had someone really good, you tried to keep them a secret for as long as possible. Nile sighed and prepared to orally submit his findings. Right now, the Doctor and Mr. Chase wanted this kept secret and out of the SCORPIA database. Probably because they wanted to have Pierre to themselves when they did find him. Nile would be the first to admit he was curious about their decision and the man himself. He mentally groaned as he went up to meet Mr. Chase. The door closed quietly. "Report, Nile."

Nile was more relaxed around Chase. He was much calmer than Rothman. "As I said in my written report, sir, we found next to nothing outside an account and an ID."

Chase looked almost hungry for something. He sharpened. "Very, well. A challenge. Send a message via the bank. He shall get it eventually."

Nile shrugged. "You aren't taking the drastic approach?"

Chase had no reaction except his reply. "No, Nile, this is one where we play the long game. Mr. Pierre clearly does not want to be found and must be approached delicately. We will be using the gentle approach."

Nile shrugged. He was paid to follow orders. "Yes, sir." Chase sighed as Nile left. In truth, he wasn't all that put off. People who had a backbone and the skills to evade SCORPIA were rare. It was nice to have a challenge for a change. People who folded at the first threat were convenient, but very boring.

* * *

Alex Rider had decided to take the risk of investing in stocks he was pretty sure would do well in this timeline. Consequently he decided to visit the bank in Switzerland. His account was still firmly anonymous and he had papers from Yassen to deposit as well, just in case. He supposed this would be his backup ID, just in case. Especially since he had activities he didn't really want ascribed to Alex Rider. Alec Pierre on the other hand… At any rate, he decided to go to Switzerland during one busy afternoon in which Tom and Jerry had been ordered to visit their parents. Ian and Crawley were _distracted_. Jack was supervising. Alex was taking himself and Fenrir on a train to Switzerland just as dawn broke. He decided to take his work and get Ian some chocolate. He wondered what to get Crawley. Chocolate couldn't hurt, right? He'd left everybody a nice visible note on the fridge, just in case they got worried or something. Fenrir had been delighted to visit the train station. Alex was surprised to see a certain deadly assassin he was all too familiar with on the train. Nile. He looked as young and fit as ever. Alex tried not to stare in abject horror and quickly cracked open one of his textbooks, which just happened to be the Dari one. To his horror, Nile decided to be social. "Nice dog."

Alex fought to keep his tone neutral. "Thank you."

Alex figured he was just being his usual self. "Dari is a bit advanced for you isn't it?"

Alex sighed. "My dog likes the taste of perverts, you know."

He was trying to head Nile off. The man would normally take a hint. To his surprise, Nile laughed. "I'm just being friendly, kid. I prefer adults, thank you."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "At six in the morning with an unaccompanied minor?"

Nile shrugged. "The adults didn't seem very interesting. I'm a young guy. You're awfully suspicious, aren't you?"

Alex shrugged. "Just don't offer me candy and we'll get along fine." Nile snorted.

* * *

Nile mentally sighed. This train trip was guaranteed to be quiet and dull. He almost preferred a chaotic assassination. Then, he saw a blond kid, with brown eyes. He walked what looked like a giant wolf onto the train. Who the fuck let a kid that small out this early with a giant-ass dog? He tried to be social. He'd had a rough childhood. Sue him. "Nice dog."

The dark, suspicious brown eyes met his for a minute, before hastily averting to the textbook they both knew he wasn't really reading. "Thank you."

The reply was tense. A premise of manners. Every inch of the kid was telling him to get lost. He remembered when he was like that. Nile decided to try again. "Dari is a bit advanced for you isn't it?"

Well, it was. And frankly, it was impressive. That and even with the kid trying to get shot of him, he had a sort of aura that drew you closer and pushed you away at the same time. It reminded him of Rothman, a bit. It wasn't seduction per say, but Nile was willing to bet the kid could be charming. "My dog likes the taste of perverts, you know."

Nile laughed. The kid had a good sense of what to avoid, then. Dead wrong about why, of course, but Nile was amused. Still, he couldn't have the kid shutting him down easy. "I'm just being friendly, kid. I prefer adults, thank you."

The kid gave him a look so reminiscent of Gregorovich it was about to give him flashbacks. "At six in the morning with an unaccompanied minor?"

Well, he had a point. Still, this was better than a conversation about banking or some other boring shit that normal people did. He shrugged. "The adults didn't seem very interesting. I'm a young guy. You're awfully suspicious, aren't you?"

The boy shrugged. "Just don't offer me candy and we'll get along fine."

He snorted. This was just precious. The fact that a kid had more common sense than adults made it better. "So why are you here?"

The kid sighed. "Bank visit. My family likes to start young."

Nile supposed the younger the better. The kid returned to his book. "I'll leave you alone, then."

The kid eyed him darkly and scowled. "Good."

The rest of the ride passed in silence, with the dog occasionally growl at him if he opened his mouth. They both got out and walked to the same bank. The kid eyed him nervously. "Should I get a restraining order?"

Nile rolled his eyes. "You're rather jaded, you know. I have business here, too."

* * *

Alex knew that, thank you. He knew he should have chosen a less dodgy bank, but what other choices did a ten/ eleven-year-old have? Alex withheld his sigh and decided to let Nile go first. "Nice of you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It means I don't have to turn my back to you."

Nile seemed to let it go and went first. The staff escorted Nile to the back after a low, but heated conversation with one of the tellers. Alex sighed and waited his turn. He just hoped the bank wasn't about to be held up. Then again, if SCORPIA did that they could start an international gang war. Maybe Nile legitimately only did his banking here? Then why would he be arguing with the teller? Alex sighed and decided he was being paranoid. Criminals had to keep their money somewhere and safes were for paranoid, comparatively small-time, drug dealers. Alex decided to wait until Nile left. Yes, he was paranoid, but SCORPIA was an international crime syndicate. Besides, his appointment wasn't until later. Stocks apparently required a broker, even if you had a complete say in what you bought or sold. The bank said having someone front for you was a good way to prevent awkward questions and maintain anonymity. Alex had just went along with it. Swiss banks were known for their strict privacy policies, even with intelligence agencies. It was one of the reasons Alex had selected them in the first place. The downside was that about half the people that used the bank were international criminal wanted by Interpol that were in various levels of disguise. Alex tried to arrive during early morning to avoid the worst of them. Sadly, his appointment was at ten, so he would be here for a while. Leaving the house that early had been about avoiding asking for permission more than being on time. Alex tried not to jump as he recognized several suspicious figures go in and out of the bank. Did these people have _any_ legitimate customers? Then again, he couldn't actually talk. After the third group of dodgy eastern Europeans and what he was pretty sure was the leadership of a Yakuza sect, Alex decided to see if he couldn't get his appointment moved up.

* * *

He went up to the teller and asked in perfect Parisian French. " _Is there any chance my appointment can be moved up, miss?"_

Unfortunately, Nile picked that time to walk out of his meeting for whatever the hell he was doing at a bank. Nile raised an eyebrow but exited the bank in short order. Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Nile had better things to do than stalk eleven-year-olds. He was being paranoid. The teller finished checking her records. " _Sadly, no. Yours is the first of the day and the brokers do not come in any earlier to start up the stock exchanges. After your account begins, your broker is available twenty-four seven."_

Alex sighed but smiled politely. " _Thank you for checking anyway."_

He sat down and cracked his science book open. It was a basic freshman biology book for a university student. He figured he needed it after trying to get through the medical textbooks. The basics were covered before students actually specialized in medicine for a reason. He read about a quarter way through his textbook before he was interrupted by his appointment. It was pretty easy to understand, mainly because it was within his expected vocabulary range. He had been about to attend college when he was sent back after all. " _Your broker will see you now."_

Alex rose gracefully from his chair and slid the book into his book bag. " _Thank you, miss."_

He walked past yet another criminal gang. Triads, maybe? They could be legitimate businessmen, but with those guards and the illegally altered automatic handguns, Alex sincerely doubted it. Alex sighed and stepped into the first of many financial meetings. The man didn't ask too many questions, just took his list of stable companies and starting companies with a shrug. " _The top half will give you a small and steady return. The bottom half will be riskier."_

Alex shrugged. " _I know. Good day."_

He stood to exit. " _Wait. This note was sent by a rather urgent request by another client."_

It was a blank envelope. It had a silver scorpion on the back. Alex felt his pulse begin to race. " _May I view this in private?"_

The broker got up immediately. " _Of course, sir. I shall get investing. Good day."_ Alex waited until the door shut and took out his disguised knife. He slit open the envelope. It was neatly typed.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Pierre,_

_I hope the letter finds you in good health. I am a high-ranking member of SCORPIA, which I'm sure you've heard of due to your association with a certain assassin. I would like to meet you and discuss your current employment options. Your skills are quite unique from what I've heard and you are such a hard man to track down. At any rate, I'm sure you'll find a way to contact me. Please do RSVP._

_Brendan Chase_

* * *

Alex bit back a wave of hysterical laughter. SCORPIA wanted to see him, again. High ranking member? Yeah, he supposed that was technically true _for a member of the executive board_. Well, it had been nice being back to life for this year. He could read in between the lines just fine. Chase wanted to meet him and Chase was used to getting what he wanted. Maybe Chase didn't want to scare him off? Yeah, he'd run if SCORPIA outright approached him. Alex had an anonymous email account and the ability to disable cameras in any public computer area, if they had any. The man would probably kill him on the spot if he ever met Alex in person. Yassen. Yassen could deal with these people. He had been doing it for years. Alex nearly cried with relief. Confronted with the people responsible for the deaths of himself and his entire family was extremely nerve-wracking. He still had no idea why they had decided to kill him in the last timeline. He was out of the game for a year! This time, he'd only been half-assedly in the game for a year. Alex hadn't even done a single mission attributed to him (although, that was probably a plus in his favor for SCORPIA). Alex mentally moaned. Now both Alex Rider and Alec Pierre would need to avoid any actions that would reach SCORPIA's ears. He needed a new alias again. Well, he could probably convince Ian it was for purely educational purposes. Ian would help him forge his papers this time. Would he go for half-Russian or half-German this time? He'd already gone for the half-French angle. Between Smithers books and future knowledge hacking the electronic systems for citizenship stuff was a piece of cake. Alex had been practicing. He could also set up an anonymous email pretty easily. He wondered how Yassen would suggest he reply. He probably shouldn't wind up SCORPIA, but it was kind of tempting. Alex went through the rest of the day on autopilot. The house was empty, since everyone had stuff to do, so it was just him and Fenrir that day. Just as well. He was sure Ian would have noticed something if he'd been here.

* * *

Alex had tried not to sound too panicky. He was sure he wasn't succeeding. This was about as long as he could stand to wait before telling somebody about the letter he got from Brendan fucking Chase. He hoped Yassen would have answers.

* * *

_-A_

_How was your day?_

_-C_

* * *

Cossack figured SCORPIA would have gone after the obvious bait by now. They never could resist an asset acquisition. Besides, they had laid a false trail for a reason. SCORPIA would have kept badgering him and maybe gotten something real. They needed to stay ahead on this.

* * *

_-C_

_Oh, it was just fucking wonderful. I ran into Nile on the early train that nobody interesting freaking rides. He is way too friendly, by the way. Figured out my shady bank is holding money for half of the world's criminal organizations. Obviously dodgy ones, by the way. Oh, and I got a letter from BRENDAN FUCKING CHASE, the guy who partially runs the terrorist organization that KILLED MY PARENTS._

_-A_

* * *

Alex felt like hyperventilating, even though this had been the plan. He just hadn't been expecting this so soon. How in the fuck had they found him that fast? It was fake him, but still. He really hoped Ian never found out he was toying around with SCORPIA. He would actually be grounded until he was thirty.

* * *

_-A_

_Calm down. This was the plan. Besides, you knew there was a risk getting involved with me._

_-C_

* * *

Cossack hoped Alex would forgive him one day. But they had a plan. Besides, Ian Rider had taken his nephew into a war zone. Yassen was through with waiting. Cossack would lie in wait for the day that MI6 attempted to close its overlarge jaws around him. Then, he would take Alex. It was clear that nobody would leave him alone and that Alex couldn't stay out of trouble if his life depended on it. First, he'd try to remotely remove some of Alex's morals. It would make his eventual partner and successor's life easier.

* * *

_-C_

_Yeah, I did. I'm definitely not meeting him until I have to. How do I reply?_

_-A_

* * *

Cossack would have cheered had he not been trained out of most of his emotions. This was going to plan. But first he had to keep Alex from getting prematurely recruited and brainwashed by the executive board. And they would take him, even as a child, if they realized just how skilled he was. Not to mention Yu's unhealthy obsession with anything British. The man would take him in a heartbeat and have Alex as his completely loyal second-in-command. Cossack decided to focus on his current plot.

* * *

_-A_

_Polite, but firm, no. Nothing anyone can trace you by. Chase can be contacted by either electronic or physical mail, but if you don't respond you will be killed for disrespect._

_-C_

* * *

Alex mentally groaned. Why couldn't he have just ignored Yassen or his need for an apprentice? Now he had to watch out for a ton of other interests. Well, those had kind of been his fault to. He couldn't really help his curiosity and magical criminal attracting pheromone. Besides, he had Fenrir, at least.

* * *

_-C_

_How long should I wait? I don't want to seem like I have a ton of time on my hands or get shot for taking too long. Plus, Chase seems like the persistent type._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack sighed. At least Alex didn't seem to suspect his other motives for helping him. Rhea's training would be done soon and he would let SCORPIA and her handle the rest. Yassen was sure Alex had next to no peers for his age and abilities.

* * *

_-A_

_Two weeks or so. You don't want to seem overly connected, which would make the recruitment more aggressive. Chase is playing nice for now, as you can tell. His current goal is contact. Eventually, he will push harder for recruitment. The board tries to handle these things delicately._

_-C_

* * *

Oh, joy. He had time, but how much? Plus, there was no way he was actually going to join SCORPIA. They were as high on the hell no list as MI6. Alex might take the CIA, but he'd prefer not to. They tried to follow the rules, at least Byrne did.

* * *

_-C_

_How much time do I have?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Potentially years, if you play this right. It helps that you did not directly or indirectly seek out SCORPIA. They want you, not the other way around. Be sure to play up your mentally unsound side. Plus, they don't want to risk offending whoever your main employer is by forcibly taking you without knowing who they are._

_-C_

* * *

Alex breathed a sigh of relief. They'd be a bit like MI6, except with less snarky jabs. He just had to convince Chase he was an absolutely batshit middle-aged operative. Hopefully, SCORPIA's army of shrinks wouldn't figure out it was an act.

* * *

_-C_

_Thank you. I'll get started. I'm sure you'll hear about the letter from somebody on your end._

_Cheers._

_-A_

* * *

Alex decided on the anonymous email approach. He didn't want to give anybody a handwriting sample or an envelope. He would send it from an anonymous account from a library computer that would die a sudden software death if someone tried to track it. The cameras would fritz out for the hour while he was there and the hour of the meltdown, should it occur. He sighed and began typing a draft.

* * *

Dear Mr. Chase,

Thank you, but no thank you. I'm quite satisfied with my current position, particularly since it involves not being on a wanted list. It seems I have a peculiar allergy to them and it seems contagious to other people on said lists who come near me, often to lethal levels. I'd hate for anything untoward to happen. It would be such a shame.

Alec Pierre

* * *

Alex sent it later in the week, but still wondered if he'd gotten it right. Was it too hostile? Too Polite? Too jokey? He was going to get a complex at this rate. Besides, it would certainly appeal to what he knew was SCORPIA's twisted sense of humor. They did love oh-so-clever plots and tongue-in-cheek jokes. Besides, Alex was curious to see the reply he got. Mind games with paranoid ex-spies turned mercenary were so much fun. Taunting letters to SCORPIA? He was in. This might shorten his lifespan, but oh, well. Besides, if nothing else, Ian might get a few laughs out of this after his premature death. He was already saving this in records Ian would be sent if he died under suspicious circumstances. He'd burned SCORPIA's original letter shortly after memorizing it, but entered a copy in his contingency records, just in case. Should he add Crawley to the list? Smithers? They had their loyalties elsewhere, but he knew that they would at least try to find out who did it. Chase. He didn't know much about the man. It was probably the point. He knew that Yu wasn't a confirmed member of the board for anyone but him yet. Alex was confident he'd never met the man in the past life. At least it wasn't Three. The good doctor had an odd way of being able to read people perfectly. That would be bad. Alex shifted his thoughts toward the present. At least now he had a feel for the style of the board members. Now, he would just wait for a reply and continue his vacation with the family. They'd all taken their chocolate bribes quite nicely and not said a word about his weird trips to Switzerland. He'd gotten a few concerned glances, but nobody said anything. He suspected they were gearing up for another family talk soon. Joy. Ian was always suspicious, but then Alex was always technically up to something, so he couldn't complain that much. He'd handle it.

* * *

Brendan Chase had been surprised to find his fax machine typing out a message he wasn't expecting that morning. Not knowing who it was, he eagerly awaited for it to finish, half-expecting some emergency with his various enterprises, raids did happen after all. He had a number of operatives who knew his fax number for intelligence purposes as well. It had been about two weeks since he'd had Nile deliver the message for Pierre. The fax seemed to be short. Well, that was odd. SCORPIA had standards for disaster reports and intelligence reports. Most were five pages long _for the summary_. No point in dithering. He'd always hated when people at ASIS did that. He was a decisions kind of guy. He picked up the fax and barked out a laugh as he finished reading it. He didn't get much for entertainment these days. Board politics didn't count. There were days he wished his operatives had a sense of humor or the guts to prank him. Being in charge of a vast criminal empire tended to leave a lot of people scared shitless of you and a lot of your mildly psychotic operatives taking your jokes literally. He'd had to cut back on some of the sarcasm. Damn, Three had to see this. Pierre was hilarious. Allergy to wanted lists, his foot. Lethally contagious, huh? This guy was definitely hostile. And mildly insane for threatening him, but oh, well. Time to grab Three and set the analysts on this. He would turn that no into a yes. Plus, the guy had tracked him down online. That took skill or connections.

* * *

Alex sighed as he walked down to breakfast. He figured something was up. The people who lived in this house all got up at different times, normally. Ian was seated at the head of the table. Jack, Crawley, Tom, and Jerry were all seated. Leaving him the spot at the opposite head. Ian spoke. "Good morning, Alex. Have a seat. We need to talk."


	34. Responses and Reasoning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mentions of death, sexuality, bullying, and war. Occasional crude language (it should be obvious by now, but extra heavy in this chapter).

Alex hesitantly sat down and let the profound feeling of doom wash over him. Had Ian discovered any of his side projects? "Am I in trouble?"

Ian snorted. "Guilty conscience?"

Alex smirked. "I'd say fuck you, but Crawley might get jealous."

Jack choked on her coffee. "Alex!"

Alex widened his eyes innocently. "What?"

She swatted him lightly and went to get him a plate. Ian sighed. "Moving on from Alex's inappropriate cracks. In case none of you gathered from Alex's comment, Crawley and I are actually together."

Ian took a sip of coffee. "How did the custody battle go?"

Jack smiled. "Oh, they didn't stand a chance."

Ian put the coffee cup back down. "Good. How did school end up going?"

Jerry shrugged. "I graduated. I'm probably going to be traveling soon. I have a bit saved up."

Alex grinned. "You should go to Naples. I think you'll like it there."

Everybody looked at him funny. Jerry had been happy there. Jerry gave him a long look. "You know what, I just might."

Crawley frowned. "A bit close to the Italian coast for my taste."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, but Jerry always liked the sunshine and warmth."

Jerry smiled faintly at him. He hadn't thought anybody had noticed. He hated the rain. It reminded him of his parents' arguments. Crawley let it go. Tom felt a little guilty he never noticed his brother disliked the rain. Ian heaved a sigh. Jones didn't have anything for him. Ian turned to Tom. "And you?"

Tom shrugged. "I'm passing."

Alex grinned. "Even in Spanish?"

Tom threw a napkin at him. "Yes, you prat."

Ian sighed. "I got your reports. Just try not to fall asleep during the lessons on verbs and you'll do a little better."

Jack turned to Alex. "And what is Alex up to?"

Ian shrugged. "An abbreviated version of college-level self-study."

Jack gave Ian the evil eye. "And you think it's age-appropriate?"

Alex decided to interrupt. "Relax, I'm kind of interested in medicine right now. Besides, at least this way I might want to know what to study in college."

Jack huffed. "Just don't burn out."

Alex grinned. "Oh, no worries, I only study for half of my day."

Jack wasn't reassured. "I know for a fact that you work quite hard. Your plants are blooming, by the way. I'm not sure how to take care of some of them."

Alex shrugged. "It depends on the plant. I'll get on them tomorrow."

Ian eyed Alex. Did he mean harvesting the poison or just the regular gardening aspect? Crawley mentally sighed. Ian was getting the look. It meant Alex was going to get investigated. He was going to have to help, too. Jack looked at Alex. "How was the family reunion?"

Alex went over the entire thing mentally. "Reunion-y. I get the feeling the adults used to argue more, but my cousins were okay."

Tom grinned. "Finally met some weirdos like you, you mean."

Alex put on his best mock-innocent expression. "I haven't the faintest idea what you're talking about."

Jerry and Tom both nearly fall out of their chairs trying to keep from laughing. Jack interjected. "Moving on, how exactly is Alex going to be assessed?"

Ian sighed. "He'll be taking the GCSEs by the end of this year."

Jack mentally moaned but knew the man wouldn't be budged. "And after that?"

Ian tilted his head. "We could do online college classes, I suppose. There is also the possibility of sending him to study in the Americas. They have the occasional child student in their universities."

Alex wondered if Ian would really go for that option. Classes in college weren't mandatory, as long as you showed up for the test. Jack interjected. "I vote online. Some people in the universities aren't good influences."

Alex mentally rolled his eyes but was also glad. He liked being home and having a flexible schedule. Jerry sighed. "We'll also be able to have Alex interact with more people his age that we know."

Ian's gaze lasered in on Alex. "Alex?"

Alex mentally considered his options. "Online."

Ian mentally rearranged the schedule for Alex. "That's settled, then."

Crawley had a question. "Why are we asking Alex? Err..no offense, kid."

Alex rolled his eyes. Jack shot Crawley an amused look. "Have you seen Alex in an uncooperative mood? I don't just mean irritated or snarky. I mean when he full out doesn't want to do something."

Crawley thought about it for a second. "Never mind."

He had seen Ian in that kind of mood. Alex interjected. "Besides, it is my education."

Crawley shrugged. "Just thought I'd ask."

Alex snorted. "That and my decision is reasonable. It's not like I asked to transfer to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to learn underwater basket weaving. I think you guys would protest."

Tom chuckled. "The mental image, Al."

Ian rolled his eyes. "I think we're all done then unless anyone else has something to bring up?"

Crawley shook his head. Jack sighed. Jerry gave a half-shrug and a jerk of his head no. "Ok, family meeting over."

* * *

Tom motioned for him to stay and they both waited for the adults to leave. Jerry eyed them, but let it go. When the kitchen was finally empty, Tom glanced around the room. "How was it really?"

Alex let off a small faint smile. "I can't hide anything from you, can I?"

Tom smirked. "Nah, but you don't really need to. I mean, who would I tell?"

Alex snorted. "You could tell someone, I suppose. How are the people at school?"

It was the right question, apparently. Tom started talking and didn't stop for a while. "...and James pretty much took over from where you left off. The bullies still transfer or stop for some reason."

Alex's lips twitched. Tom continued. "Oh yeah, I wanted to ask you about something."

Alex shrugged. "Yes, Tom?"

Like he would ever deny his friend the ability to ask questions. "So, I'm kinda worried about Mandy, you know four years older and kinda a weirdo really likes snakes and thinks you're cute."

Alex mentally started. He'd almost forgotten about her. "And you want to know what's wrong?"

Tom looked a little sheepish. "Well, yeah."

Alex inhaled and exhaled slowly. "Fine, but I'm not invading her privacy unless I have to."

Tom flushed. "I didn't mean that; I just meant we go over and visit or something. We can add it on to your social interaction lists or something."

Alex snorted. "You make it sound like I'm special needs or something."

Tom grinned. "Oh, but Alex, you are special. We just took you out of school so you didn't get bullied."

Alex lightly shoves his friend. "Sure, Tom. Remind me again who took care of your school bullies."

* * *

It took Alex a few days of appeasing his housemates and setting up his house visit with Mandy (her name was actually Amanda, but nobody called her that) before he was able to take Fenrir on one of their extended walks without a chaperone (read: visit the bunker). He opened the heavy door with a practiced ease and slipped in. He was eager to check on the computer. It had probably been long enough that it had finally loaded and finished starting up. Alex felt as though something was different. The lights were staying on, he supposed. He walked towards the computer that he had partially restored. Alex walked toward the computer it was on and there was a message.

* * *

Begin Final Start-up?

Y/N

* * *

Alex hit yes, having already been committed to starting up whatever mysterious program Dr. Allen had cooked up before he died. He jumped as he heard the ceiling moving. It was a sort of grinding mechanical sound, but the machine seemed like it was running smoothly. He really needed more engineering knowledge. Fenrir seemed relaxed. Alex took a deep breath and felt a bit stupid. There was nobody here but him. "Hello?"

He heard whirring coming from behind him. "Behind you."

The voice seemed to come from the walls. Alex turned and felt his mouth drop open as he spotted a hologram. "What the hell?"

The hologram smirked slightly. "You didn't think the doctor would write a program for a sentient being and leave me completely without form, did you?"

Alex mentally whacked himself to hold back the sarcasm. Of course, the nutty, revenge-driven scientist made holograms. It just wouldn't make sense to have an AI without them. Not. "You're Maddox, then."

I wasn't really a question. The hologram shrugged. "Yes."

Alex looked at it. "What do you do?"

The computer raised its eyebrow at him. "The question should be what don't I do? I have to admit though, you are younger than what father had imagined."

Alex sighed. "I'm younger than a lot of people imagine."

The machine seemed to be trying to smile. "Yes, I suppose you would be Alex Rider or should I say, Alec Pierre?"

Alex sighed. "You hacked me."

Maddox shrugged. "Technically, I hacked the whole world."

Alex grinned. "Find anything interesting?"

Maddox flickered and appeared to teleport to left. "Some things that would curl your hair."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I don't know, Mad. It would take quite a bit."

The computer huffed. "So, what do you want? A million dollars? A pet pony?"

Alex snorted. "Freedom from MI6 and SCORPIA and a lessening of their influence and an education in money-handling, medicine, and engineering. Plus, all the stuff I'll need to get by."

The hologram rubbed its hands together. "A challenge, then."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Would you expect anything less from a boy who found you?"

The hologram seemed to consider it for a moment. "I suppose not. I'll start sending you weekly notes to read and some assignments. I have the most knowledge in the world at my disposal, after all."

Alex wondered if the AI was meant to be educational. "Thanks, I assume you have my test and other records."

Maddox shrugged. "Of course. I'll be scanning. Call me in the bunker if you want an appearance. If you are in immediate danger or something needs your attention, I'll try to text you."

Alex sighed. "You have my phone number?"

The chuckling echoed as the hologram vanished. "All three."

* * *

Alex walked toward the library. It was odd, how the computer seemed to have a good approximation of human reactions. Then again, Allen had been years ahead of his time. Maybe even decades. He spent the rest of the time attempting to see if the place had any hiding spots. Alex figured he'd be better off starting in living quarters. The first room he walked in set off his senses for some reason. He spotted a painting on the wall. It was odd because this place had seemed strangely devoid of anything but fake and creepy Nazi decor. Alex wondered if it could possibly be that obvious before moving over to the painting and lifting it off the wall. Someone had hollowed the drywall behind the painting. Alex pulled out several black, leather-bound journals. He flipped the first one open, curious about the contents. None of them were labeled on the outside. Alex wasn't surprised to find that it was a codex. He flipped through the first couple of codes and put the book in his backpack. The second book was a bound set of letters written in code. Well, he knew what he was doing after his homework. The codex probably held the keys for them. The third and final book appeared to be a bound set of completely unredacted files. They were in English. One of them had a silver scorpion on the front. SCORPIA. They seemed to pollute every element of his life. The last part of the book seemed to be personnel files for multiple agencies. Well, somebody had a traitor. Not that it seemed to be anything new. Alex shoved the two books into his bag with slightly more force and necessary and zipped it. Fenrir came into the room behind him, sniffing. "What is it?"

The wolf's ears twitched. Alex sighed and began to follow the wolf. This didn't feel right for some reason. He followed his wolf to the infirmary. Alex felt his mouth drop open as he walked in. There was a whole section that hadn't been there before. The shelves were clearly labeled and had different colored tints. It looked more like a weird area designed by modern artists than a hospital. "What the hell is this?"

Maddox appeared. "The advanced medical center. Also, the biometric locks have been set to you."

Alex started. "What does all of it do?"

Maddox sighed. "It mainly has to do with genetic modification and making existing remedies more effective, particularly the sprays in the drawers."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Wouldn't that be excruciatingly painful on somebody fully grown? Or would it just make you sick for a while?"

Maddox looked at him. "It depends on what is being done. Some do both, but usually, you are either sick for a while or in excruciating pain for a few days."

Alex grimaced. "Why would anyone want to use it then?"

Maddox shrugs. "Enhancement to their form or if they were going to die otherwise."

He sighed. "What about side-effects and stuff? You can't tell me there aren't any."

Maddox whipped around. "Breach. One person approaching."

Alex drew his weapon. "Put the wall down over those shelves."

Maddox flickered. The grey-ish wall Alex remembered seeing descended from the ceiling. "Didn't you say this place was locked?"

Maddox shrugged. "Locks can be broken. And the others could have made security loopholes."

Alex sighed. "We may as well see what they want."

Fenrir tensed beside him. He heard an exclamation in a distinctly middle-class accent. "What in the bloody fuck is this place?"

The man drew a firearm of some sort. Without seeing it, the most Alex could tell you was that it was a handgun. Though, he'd had the same reaction, so he couldn't blame the man. His walk sounded distinctly military. The door opened. "What is a bleedin' kid and a giant fucking wolf doing with a hologram and a fucking handgun in a creepy-ass bunker?"

Alex shrugged. "Exploring?"

The man chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Can't blame you, I suppose. I would've done the same thing. Minus the gun, of course. Where'd you get it?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Nowhere special. What are you doing here?"

The man offered his hand. They both put the guns away. "Captain Charles Brandon. Honorable discharge. Here to investigate my dad's death. The paranoid old man had me change my name legally before he died."

Alex sighed. "Who was he?"

Charles sighed. "You don't know a bloke named Alastair Allen do you?"

Alex took a deep breath. "I guess you were the one he wanted in my place. I should give you the tapes."

Alex rummaged around for the drawer he put them in. He'd already made copies. The man seemed to be thinking. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

Alex did his best not to make a scathing remark. "I'm home-schooled and we're done until after dinner."

There was an awkward sort of silence. Charles started fidgeting nervously. "Er…"

Alex rolled his eyes and handed the man the tape where Allen talked about his death. "Spit it out."

Charles twitched a little. "So, I don't have a place at the moment and this is kind of yours…"

Alex shrugged. "Stay if you want. Just get a flat with a roommate soon or people will ask questions."

The man relaxed slightly. "I won't say anything about your gun if you don't tell people about mine."

Fenrir seemed to relax. "Fine. What did you do for the army, anyway?"

Alex was hoping engineer or doctor. Maybe scientist. "Doctor. I actually do have the doctorate by the way."

He seemed proud of the degree. "Any chance I could get you to review my homework or recommend a textbook?"

Charles had the faintest hint of a smile. "Sure." Alex decided to show him the library. They did a pretty good job of reading in amicable silence until Alex had to go.

* * *

Ian Rider was a very suspicious person. It, therefore, came as no surprise to Crawley that he was investigating where exactly mini-Rider went off to during the overgrown wolf's overlong walks. "He has to be up to something, Crawley."

Crawley sighed. "He is eleven and a half. It cannot be that bad. Maybe he just has a secret girlfriend or something."

Ian paused mid-pace. "At eleven? No. Besides, you said that last time, and then Gregorovich showed up."

Crawley sighed. "MI6 has confirmed rumors that he chose an apprentice."

Ian snorted bitterly. "Like he couldn't finish training that one or drop them for Alex when they realized exactly how skilled he is."

Crawley mentally groaned. This was why you didn't train children. "We have satellite confirmation that Gregorovich has not visited the island for an assignment in months."

Ian rolled his eyes. "With that man's client list? It means nothing. Besides, Gregorovich isn't the only threat. Sarov and that stupid drug dealer got involved. Don't think I forgot about Jones' little stunt either."

Crawley sighed. "Ian, relax. It's only a few hours every day."

On second thought, it wasn't at all relaxing, but he wasn't about to broadcast that either. Ian continued. "Byre was sticking his nose in it too."

Crawley mentally wished crucifixion on the man. "He won't cause a diplomatic incident. Not now, anyway. By the time he solidifies his new power base, Alex will be almost fully grown anyway."

Ian rubbed his eyes. "And Black Ops?"

Crawley snorted. "They can go suck a dick. You have the entire leadership dead to rights if you go public with any single assignment you've taken for them."

Ian supposed that was one way of handling them. "The crazy family members?"

Crawley sighed. "On paper, they are the better guardians. If you two go to court, you'll probably lose."

Ian sighed and Crawley continued. "Better start teaching Alex whatever culty shit they want him to know. You can always put a heavy negative tint on it if you want. Also, you could start out with the stories and leave the nastier shit for later. Not like they can say it isn't your family's version of teaching it."

Ian paused mid-pace again. "True. They'll probably figure it out."

Crawley grinned rather nastily. "Well, you said what you'd teach him, not the order. Also, from what you've told me the agreement is binding as long as you hold up your end. It falls under not your problem if they disagree with your teaching order and methods."

Ian snorted. "I knew there was a reason I kept you around."

Crawley smirked. "Is that the only reason?"

Ian pulled him physically off the chair and into a kiss. "I can think of a few others."

* * *

Alex walked in on Crawley getting water from the kitchen. Perfect. "So, Crawley."

Alex's voice was deceptively pleasant. "Yes, Alex?"

Alex took on a rather manic look. "You break Ian's heart. I break you. Got it?"

Crawley wondered how the kid could look actually menacing. "Err. Yes."

Alex sauntered out of the room. "Good."

Jack appeared after Alex left. "He does that to all of my dates, don't worry."

Crawley was not at all reassured, somehow. Starbright might think mini-Rider was nothing but sunshine and rainbows, but Crawley begged to differ. Plus, he had a man-eating wolf to take care of the body if something unfortunate happened. Ian walked in and got coffee. "Has Alex been death-threating Crawley?"

Crawley wondered how this was a common occurrence. Jack rolled her eyes. "Does he ever not death-threat my dates?"

Ian shrugged. "Good point."

Crawley sighed heavily. "Did we ever get that dog tested for wolf genes?"

Jack rolled her eyes. "Don't be ridiculous Crawley, wolves are extinct in England. Besides, I don't really want to know what Alex would do if they tried to take Fenrir away."

Crawley ran his hands through his hair. Why was it always this family? Baxter was still griping about them not confiscating the wolf. Jones had rubbed it in by pointing a ten-year-old had done better than all of Black Operations before preemptively claiming Alex as theirs, should he choose to join the government in any capacity. Needless to say, neither Baxter nor Gregson had been particularly pleased with that remark. Then, there had been the absolute CF involving the parking lot explosion, which both agencies had neglected a bit due to other factors. Since it had been the both of them and the CIA, there had been a shitstorm involving jurisdiction. The CIA was also summarily refusing to fork over any of the evidence because they didn't want to be cut out of the retribution phase of the op (should it occur). Not to mention Ian's history of cutting out even his own bosses made him bad for interagency cooperation. Jones had asked him to tell Ian, who'd been mysteriously cooperative about leaving an investigation practically in his backyard alone. Ian NEVER did that. Crawley returned to the present. "You OK, Crawley?"

It was Jerry. "Yeah, kid. Just banking trouble."

Jerry swung up onto the counter-top. "Eh, don't let it get to you. Want to go out for a walk?"

There was paperwork he still needed to do. Surprisingly, Crawley was able to let it go. "You know what, I think I would." It was one of the few nice, sunny days.

* * *

Captain Charles Brandon had seen and done a lot of things. Some of the places he'd been to had made him forget just how odd Londoners could be sometimes. Granted, most eleven-year-olds in London weren't packing. That Alex Rider was probably one of the odder kids he'd met. Brandon could tell he knew how to use a gun, but he didn't quite give off a child soldier vibe. He knew what that looked like and had to repress his gag reflex as all those fun memories came back up. Then again, it wasn't like he had anything better to do at the moment. He needed a job and a flatmate. The pension was really not enough to live on at the moment. Then again, he had this nice bunker, even if it came with a weird-ass hologram, an odd mutt, and the weirdest kid he'd ever met. He figured he'd go for clinical work. Surgery was out because of the hours. Charles already had no family, friends, or social life, thank you. Well, most of them were in the army to be fair. His mind kept wandering back to the tape, the kid, and the bunker. From what he understood, the only way the hologram would team up with the kid is if the kid was going against MI6. Brandon wondered why. The kid might be a little off, but he didn't deserve to die and didn't seem to have a death wish. He took a deep breath. The tapes the kid had given him had to be the ones his father was talking about. Charles sighed. He didn't want to believe it. He'd been a hardcore patriot once, after all. But, with some of the things he'd seen…the government was capable of terrible things. Great things. Things for the greater good. It didn't make them any less horrific. First things first, job, house, murder investigation. Then he could worry about the kid he'd just met. Hopefully, they wouldn't both wind up dead.

* * *

Brendan Chase was interested in Pierre. The most he'd been able to get, even with SCORPIA's vast resources, was the bare minimum for any decent file. Pierre had to be a newer identity. No suspicious travel patterns. Only one dodgy account at a shady bank. Contact with Yassen Gregorovich usually took vast amounts of credibility in the criminal world, but Pierre openly worked for intelligence. Chase got the feeling human resources was only the tip of the iceberg with this guy. They'd already linked him to the freelancers they'd hired to test the base. Graves and Stein. Unfortunately, those two didn't fall under what anyone would call credible witnesses. In fact, if they were ever caught, they'd have reasonable grounds for an insanity defense and that really said it all. Chase was really dying to find out what his other identities were. The most Nile had been able to get out of the bank was a promise to deliver the letter and the fact that the man had an account there. Out of sheer irritation at the sudden hole in his network, he summoned Yassen. Politely, of course. The man tended to get stabby around the employees if you were rude and reliable housekeeping was surprisingly difficult to find. "Yassen, do come in."

The man walked into his office. Even in SCORPIA, he was considered a bit of a holy terror. "Pierre."

Chase didn't phrase it as a question. "Owed me a favor and came highly recommended."

Chase sighed. Pulling teeth. "What exactly did this pertain to?"

Yassen was about as readable as stone. "Help to get someone out of a tight spot in exchange for an unidentified favor in the future. An apprentice was part of his repayment, though he is not from the usual circles of the skin trade."

Chase drummed his fingers on the desk. Not a human trafficker, then. He wasn't surprised. Pierre seemed too...firm in his disregard for SCORPIA for that sort of thing. Chase gave up on the subtle approach. "Who the hell is he and what does he do?"

Yassen didn't react at the change in tone. "He wisely doesn't use his actual name for the business and the closest you might have to a job description is fixer or consultant."

Chase sighed. "In other words, more slippery than a greased eel."

There might have been a ghost of a smile in Gregorovich's face at that comparison. "You could say that, Mr. Chase."

Yassen was promptly dismissed.

* * *

Brendan Chase had finally decided on a reply. He'd gone against some of the recommendations from Dr. Steiner, but he had a bit of a gut feeling that he was right in doing so. Besides, he tended to take anything based in psychology with a grain of salt. They had all been fooled before. Chase didn't hold as much a grudge as some of the board over John Rider (cough, Rothman, cough). Really, the man had been pleasant enough. Plus, they'd gotten Yassen out of the ordeal. It reminded him of the early days of SCORPIA, doing this sort of thing. They actually had a challenge attempting to recruit some members and the few who resisted had always been...noteworthy. It took a lot to gain the respect of a SCORPIA executive board member, but a few solid operatives on both sides on the line did. Pierre almost reminded him of someone he'd met in the early days. It had been ages since he'd directly handled a large operation with an intelligence agency. Odair, maybe? Rider had been more polite, but that had been his role. They'd both had a fondness for the same sort of sarcastic jokes. Chase remembered Odair vividly. It was impossible not to really. The unnaturally green eyes and the build of an agility fighter. The almost androgynous features. Plus, all the gay jokes and the time he showed up to a GOP fundraiser in full drag and complained loudly about his (nonexistent) black Jewish boyfriend not being allowed in. Chase had barely resisted cracking up at that one and they were normally boring as shit. The death puns, dear god, the death puns. They never had found the body. Not SCORPIA, not MI6, not the CIA. One day, he'd just vanished. It was well known that most intelligence agencies (and crime syndicates) would pay a good deal of money for information of any kind on the man. Brendan sighed. He had a letter to type and shouldn't be reminiscing about the only (and long-dead) competent agent the CIA ever had.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Pierre,_

_I'm sorry to hear about your allergy to wanted lists. Hopefully, it isn't kicked up by your recent communications with myself and dear Cossack. On a simpler note, would you perhaps consider expanding your market a little? You know how the smallest ideas can vastly improve company profits, I'm sure. Besides, you could be dead wrong about the amount of trouble it would bring you, especially considering the benefits. You should consider a large, stable private company, namely mine. I'm sure we could, at the very least, find ways to make your life easier._

_Brendan Chase_

* * *

Alex looked at Chase's letter with a mixture of amusement and alarm. He had a feeling Chase felt comfortable being more casual than some of the other board members. It didn't mean the man was any less deadly. Alex figured it was just him being Australian. ASIS definitely had a more familiar environment than MI6. Then again, Blunt had the charisma of a dead undertaker and Jones was more of a coin toss, but was probably going to end up just like him in a few years, give or take. He sighed a refocusing on the letter, which he'd predictably gotten on one of his semi-frequent trips to Switzerland. Ian seemed to have given up on caring about the trips as long as he got his homework done and paid attention to the extremely odd family history and philosophy he was supposed to have learned ages ago. At the moment, he was contemplating his reply to Chase. Alex groaned before deciding to go with his usual brand of humor bordering on disrespect.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Chase,_

_I assure you my allergy shan't act up if you don't. As for my area, I say with all due respect to mind your own business. I'm well aware of your wide, pervasive, and ever-expanding to the point of borderline parasitism into the private area, Mr. Chase. As for the trouble, my independence is well worth it. On the lighter note, you seem to move awfully fast, Mr. Chase. Didn't your mother ever tell you that no means no? Besides, we really do know nothing about each other and I'd prefer to keep it that way._

_Good day,_

_Alec Pierre_

* * *

Amanda Teller was considered to be part of the fringes of the Brooklands social ecosystem. More recently, due to an unfortunate rumor spreading douche, she was also considered loose. The irony of her still being a virgin was not lost on her and more than once sent her into fits of amused, if slightly bitter, laughter. Amanda, who only answered to Mandy unless it was her mother, had found a bright spot in talking to the younger children. Tom had even decided to bring Alex, the boy genius over. Many was just hoping for a friend intelligent enough for decent conversation. Plus, Alex was nice. Everybody knew he hated bullies. Tom was sweet enough, but Alex well...Mandy liked him. One look at those adorable brown eyes and her people problems just faded away. She might have a problem with brown eyes. She rather eagerly awaited her play-date with the two boys, even if she pretended it was more for their sake. The d-bag had decided to spread rumors in hopes she would put out. How that worked in his mind, she wasn't sure. No self-respecting girl would touch him with a ten-foot pole and disposable gloves without some sort of drug involved and a lot of it. The rumors about him were...unsavory to say the least. Some of the other unpopular girls had made the mistake of going to the asshole's parties and regretted it. Amanda filed her nails before digging out the new super black nail polish she'd bought to paint her nails with. She had a pride in her black nails, naturally black hair, black lipstick, and blue tint eyeliner. Her eyes were a dull muddy brown. She wished she had Alex's chocolate color or just maybe something darker. Yes, mother, she knew the boys were only eleven. Yes, they were just friends. What kind of gross pervert did her mom think she was? Alex and Tom were cute, but in a definitely childlike way that triggered a gag reflex with the thought of dating them. Mandy carefully treated her gecko with a swab. Her mother wouldn't let her get a snake, and this had been their compromise. The gecko had a mild infection or so the vet said. Mandy just wanted Newton to get better. She carefully closed the terrarium after dropping more live crickets in. The doorbell rang to let the boys in.

* * *

Alex Rider mentally sighed as he approached the house. Nothing good ever happened to him in large, luxurious homes. Mandy's house indicated her family was well off, but not in an ostentatious way. Older money, most likely. He rang the doorbell. Mandy opened the door in all her goth girl glory. Alex though black made her look rather pale, but was wise enough not to say so aloud. "Good afternoon."

Mandy grinned. "No need to stand on formality. Tom was right, you do need more friends."

Alex snorted. "And you look like such a good influence, goth girl. Are you sure you're not going to sacrifice us to Cthulhu?"

Mandy laughed out loud. "Been listening to the principal, have we? He's a clueless idiot."

Alex smirked. "Even if you bought him a clue, I doubt he'd get it. If you have a real problem, try the secretary or the vice principal."

Mandy rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to them either. My peers, my problem. Besides, what can they really do? Put people in detention? It's such a huge punishment."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, I'm sure Mr. I-get-beaten-at-home-and-like-to-take-it-out-on-little-kids is definitely going to tremble in fear of quiet time in a nice air-conditioned room."

Mandy cuffed him. "That's the spirit. We'll turn you into a cynical social reject in no time."

Alex flashed his most innocent wide-eyed look. "But aren't I already?"

Mandy laughed. "Just wait until I introduce you to political commentary, you'll never look at government officials the same way again."

Mandy's mother just happened to be passing by. "AMANDA TELLER! No corrupting innocent children!"

Mandy put on an innocent face nobody believed. "But mom, I'm just introducing them to-"

Her mother rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding, corrupt them to your heart's content. We need more active informed citizens instead of idealistic tethered sheep. Just don't let your father hear those radio talks. He'll try to debate the commentators."

The mother walked off. "Why can't Ian be like that?"

Tom grinned. "He's paranoid about you landing yourself on a watch list." Alex groaned and they headed up to Mandy's room to see the gecko.

* * *

Mandy enjoyed having little kids around. They were all so young and impressionable. Well, Alex and Tom weren't that impressionable, but they still listened to her talk about the podcasts and all kinds of things. She didn't mention the other kids at school, but this was nice. Her mom brought up snacks that she hadn't made since Mandy was twelve. Of course, they were supposed to be for the boys' benefit, but if she was honest she ate quite a bit of them too. Alex seemed fascinated with the gecko, not that she blamed him. Reptiles were awesome. She liked snakes. Tom noticed her looking at Alex, who was staring at the gecko. "Don't mind him, he has a problem with animals."

Alex swatted at his friend. "Oi, I have one dog, you bum."

Tom grinned. "Yes, one massive dog the size of a horse who you hand fed from the time it was a puppy."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Lots of people raise puppies."

Tom's eyes had an unholy gleam Alex suspected was just sheer amusement. "Yeah, but they don't feed them raw meat from the butcher and take them on train rides."

Alex sighed. "I just take one look in his eyes and crumble, you know. Can't help it."

Tom just kept snorting. "Yeah, his freaky yellow eyes. You're like one of those moms who refuses to admit their kid is a little weird."

Alex felt his lips involuntarily twitch. "I'm secure enough in my masculinity not to rise to that bait, Tom. Feeling threatened?"

Mandy lost it first and collapsed into a fit of giggles. The boys joined in, but Mandy kept laughing to the point of breathlessness. "It wasn't that funny."

She wiped tears of laughter from her eyes. "Oh, but it was."

Alex figured. "Mmmhmm. So Mandy, what's really wrong?"

Alex was trying to be soothing. He delicately reached for her hair and started gently running his hands through it. Mandy bit her lip awkwardly. "Um."

Alex delicately touched a few more strands. "Well? It's not like we're going to tell anyone."

Mandy huffed awkwardly. "Err. Did your family give you the talk?"

Alex flushed faintly at the memory. "Um, yeah."

Mandy sighed. "So this asshole decided to spread rumors that we, well...you know."

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Mandy had probably never held anyone's hand, let alone had sex. He kept his face neutral and sympathetic, though. Alex did wonder if assault charges would apply if the guy had five years and a hundred pounds on him. Alex shrugged. "And?"

Mandy growled. "I didn't. I've never even touched a guy!"

Alex gently patted her shoulder. "I believe you, but most of your cretin peers don't, I assume?"

Mandy huffed and started pacing. "Yeah, and freaking Stone is having all his buddies spread it!"

Alex felt one of his nastier impulses come on. "Well, Mandy, you can keep denying rumors and making Stone look like he's telling the truth or you can turn this around on Stone."

Mandy froze mid-pace. "How?"

Alex's smirk came with an unholy grin. "Well, you target his pride. Start complaining about how he was in bed and make sure the gossip girl is nearby. You can say, oh, he was tiny and finished in like three seconds and that he called his mother's name out afterward and then you can tell your guy friend-"

Mandy interjected. "Mason."

Alex continued. "Mason, about how it's enough to put any girl off pity fucks for life."

Tom laughed. "Oh, Alex, you're evil."

Alex felt his fingers twitch. Strangling asshole rumored rapists was antisocial or so his shrink had told him. "He started it."

Mandy's eyes took on a savage cast. "You know what? You might just be onto something there, tadpole."

* * *

Needless to say, her social life improved after certain ghastly rumors about Stone began circling the school. Alex didn't know if it was his first or last name, but he hoped the guy got hit by a truck. There were enough misogynistic pieces of shit wasting oxygen in the world. Mandy called to arrange a permanent social event once a week a few days later. Ian raised an eyebrow after confirming it with Mrs. Teller. "She got attached."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Mandy is nice."

Ian shrugged. "Just remember…"

Alex rolled his eyes. Honestly, he was eleven. "We are just friends."

Ian sighed. "She dresses in solid black and publicly protests human right abuses by the government."

Alex grinned. "I support her endeavor wholeheartedly and hope she continues to exercise her right to free speech in Speaker's Corner."

Ian withheld him moan. "I don't like it, but have fun and don't burn any effigies. MI6 likes to track people who do."

Alex withheld his preferred comment. MI6 was a bunch of paranoid fuckers. "Yes, Ian."


	35. Australia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, a quick note. Some of the scenes (one in particular), I got ideas for from another fanfic, The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. Fan moment. Call it my tribute to the author. I love their characterization of Yassen (and other characters). I meant to put this in, but I forgot. I don't want anybody to think I'm idea poaching.

Ian Rider got the call from the bank about mid-way through the first semester of the school year. Tom was doing OK. Alex was doing Alex and being frustratingly opaque. Crawley was attempting to cut him off from both investigating Alex and searching through MI6's old files in search of a traitor from back when John died. Ian realized that Crawley had a point and that he was obsessing, but Alex had asked him to find the person who betrayed his parents. After a quick search of his files, he realized that less than ten people knew about John and Helen. Himself. Crawley. ASH. Jones. Blunt. Helen's family (three people at the time, her mother had been dead). The nanny. He immediately crossed himself, Crawley, and Jones off the list. As much as he'd like to rule out his own boss, Blunt was ruthless and John had (in his eyes) outlived his usefulness and was full of classified information combined with a deadly skill set. ASH was a possibility. Helen's family was probably also ruled out, but Ian couldn't be sure. Then again, they had adored Helen, even if they didn't approve of her husband. Most likely, they would have just gotten rid of John and then ever-so-kindly offered to take Helen and her child in. Crawley and Jones were very fond of John and himself. The nanny had been thoroughly vetted. It was maddening. Crawley grabbed his laptop out of his hands. "Enough is enough, Ian."

Ian knew he was whining. "But Crawley-"

Crawley interjected. "You're no closer than you were five hours ago, besides you have a new mission."

Ian got up. "Where?"

Crawley smirked a little. That always got his attention. "Australia."

Ian rubbed the back of his neck. "Why?"

Crawley sighed. "ASIS wants help keeping an eye on negotiations with a nasty snakehead."

Ian groaned. "What about Alex? I don't want him near any bloody human traffickers."

Crawley looked vaguely triumphant. "I convinced Jones to send me as your back-up. I can watch Alex while you snoop around."

Ian grinned. "If I didn't like you already-" Crawley decided the best way to shut him up was to kiss him.

* * *

When Alex got home from walking Fenrir and visiting his base, he knew something was up. Crawley was tense; Ian was practically humming with excitement and Jack was glaring (Jerry had moved out about three weeks into this school year). Tom was nervously eating his dinner as though he expected someone to start throwing plates. Alex let Fenrir off the leash. "Ok, what's going on?"

Jack glared at Ian. "It seems you're going on vacation to Australia for a few weeks, sweetie."

Alex sighed. Fenrir whined. Tom began eating at a faster rate. "Ok. Tom, give Mandy my greetings."

Alex grabbed his plate and headed up the stairs to pack. He suddenly wasn't that hungry. Fenrir looked at him with wide pleading eyes. Alex just handed the wolf his entire plate the minute he got upstairs and shut the door. He messaged Yassen. Well, he'd call Mandy and Jack and Tom. He sighed and began opening his drawers. Tom came into the room. "Not hungry?"

Alex grimaced. "No, not really."

Tom put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Alex wasn't sure why this was bothering him so much, even though it opened the ASH can of worms. "Don't let it get to you."

Alex sighed. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom helped him pack in silence. There wasn't much more that needed to be said. They both went to bed rather gloomily. Alex felt Fenrir come in. Then, he heard arguing, at first he had to strain his ears to hear it. Jack and Ian, of course. "Ian you can't keep doing this. Children need stability."

Ian's deeper voice answered back. "What about me? Aren't I in his life now?"

Jack sounded frustrated. "Ian that isn't enough. Every time you go somewhere you separate him from his home, his peers. The few who are allowed to meet him at any rate."

Ian exhaled loudly. "He seems fine to me."

Jack snorted. "Fine? Fine?! There's more to life than being fine! Besides, appearances can be deceiving. Do you have any idea what he goes through every time you uproot him?!"

Ian's voice was still even. "No, but I'm sure if he had an issue-"

Jack interrupted. "You would be THE LAST person he would tell. He thinks he has to be perfect for you and you just let him head on the path to self-destruction!"

Alex rolled over. He didn't want to hear anymore. Fenrir huffed and lay a giant paw over his head.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was not best pleased at Ian Rider's next choice of destination. It was the home turf of not one, but two executive board members. Brendan Chase took a great amount of glee in hiding right under the nose of his former employers. Winston Yu took pride in having a perfect British home in the outback and being undetected as a SCORPIA board member. Then, there was ASH to consider. He'd murder the man himself, but it would leave him without an alibi. If Alex hadn't gotten him Rhea, he would be in England, kidnapping himself an apprentice. Drat, it was probably why the brat had done it in the first place. He debated on what to send Alex. Reverse psychology? Tell him sarcastically to get in all the trouble he wanted? Have an associate kidnap him for a few weeks? Rhea noticed his tension, but wordlessly sat down and ate dinner without asking. She was learning well. A few more weeks would see her transferred to the island. Yassen was not about to rush this because of personal feelings. He sighed and pulled out his phone.

* * *

_-A_

_Don't do anything rash. Don't kill anybody. Don't go near ASH. If you even think about drawing attention, I will personally come after you. There will be one mole, two intelligence agencies, and two board members present. Do not, I cannot emphasize this enough, draw attention._

_-C_

* * *

Alex's eyes widened at the message. Yassen was serious. Well, he was glad he had such wonderful things to look forward to. With the way his luck was, the airport would spontaneously combust and he'd be the subject of an international manhunt from both sides by the end of the week. He would try, though. Being unnoticed. It was more for Jack's sake at this point, but he knew SCORPIA wouldn't hesitate to target his and Ian's family if something went wrong. As much as he wanted to sabotage the negotiations between yet another intelligence agency and criminal organization, he knew doing so would draw fire like nothing else.

* * *

_-C_

_Fine, I'll behave. Even if I have wonderful heart-stopping poison just waiting to be put in ASH's tea._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen sighed. Alex knew just how to tempt people. Ian Rider's negotiation lessons at work, most likely. Now he was torn between egging Alex on and wanting him to stop for his own safety. Killing ASH would cause a commotion. On the other hand, Alex poisoning ASH would be perfect poetic justice. He snapped the phone shut before he could text something he'd regret if Alex did in fact murder the man.

* * *

Alex sighed. He refused to be held responsible for anything happening to ASH if the man didn't have the good sense to stay away. He might not want to actually kill him, but Alex could go for serious bodily harm. Maybe something nice and even more debilitating. Yassen had done a great job of screwing him up on the inside, though. Alex grabbed his bag and sighed. This trip was going to be rough. He'd packed extra gear and some of Smithers' stuff. He remembered the man's warnings about the Australians. Funnily enough, Smithers was the only one in all of MI6 who'd even thought to. Alex really was fond of the man. Other than Jones' more than slightly creepy warning at the beginning of his 'career'. Looking back on all of those missions, or at least the early ones, he'd begun to suspect a pattern. It would have benefitted MI6 even if he had died. Was that why he'd gotten a soldier's training for a spy's job or did they just suspect he'd really need the parachute training? He supposed he would never really know. Alex decided to pack some innocuous-looking, but more dangerous creations. He'd managed to squeeze in some magnesium strips with the beef jerky. With any luck, customs wouldn't check too closely. He went with his snack theme and piled in some of the more powerful stable explosives. Nothing as obvious as C-4 blocks. Eleven, not stupid. Along with his standard weaponry, he had just enough explosives and poison to get him on weapon-trafficking charges. Alex triple-checked that everything looked harmless enough to pass airport security before zipping both of his bags shut. Fenrir sniffed his bags and whined. "Yeah, yeah. I'll try to be back soon."

Fenrir attempted to hold his bags hostage while Ian and Crawley just looked amused. "Thanks for the help, you two. Such wonderful, upstanding members of society."

Alex laid on the sarcasm a little thick, but then he was grumpy. The two just snorted and got into the car.

* * *

Since they'd actually gotten a decent flight this time, the airport was crowded. Alex casually made his way through customs, attempting not to break a sweat. The flight attendant looked a little concerned. "Alright there, sweetie?"

Alex gave a smile that was probably closer to a grimace. "Yeah, just a stomachache."

It was true. He was now seriously regretting his decision to skip dinner that had resulted in him eating a larger breakfast than normal. Ian and Crawley just looked at him. "What?"

Ian waited until the hubbub was appropriately loud and there were no flight attendants around. "Do you know something we don't?"

Alex smirked and said in a lowered voice. "A lot of things Ian, but I'd friggin' tell you if something was wrong with the flight."

Crawley just watched the interplay with the air of someone resigning themselves to execution. Ian grumbled. "Just checking. Bad enough we have to work with the Australians and our second least favorite private company."

Alex sighed. The Australians were siding with one of SCORPIA's rivals because someone on the board was an ASIS traitor. The reason MI6 was there was that they'd had experience with dealing with large criminal organizations. Alex was sorely tempted to blow the lot of them up and whoever SCORPIA had there for good measure. Ian was giving him a long searching look. Well, Alex was going to warn him about ASH no matter what. "I'm not discussing more on the bloody plane, Ian."

Crawley was currently slipping MI6 standard six-hour sedatives on both their drinks. It was the only way he'd get a peaceful flight. Ian looked put out. Both downed their water in one go before shooting Crawley a betrayed look and passing out shortly after takeoff.

* * *

Alex woke up with a headache and the knowledge that Crawley had drugged both of their waters. He went through the adjoining door he found open, shut it behind him and grabbed towels so the sound would be muffled for the hallway. Ian and Crawley shot him bemused looks. "What. The. Fuck. Crawley?"

Crawley sighed. "It was the only way to get any peace and quiet during the flight. Besides, even I do weird things under stress and both of you looked sleep-deprived."

Alex growled. "You bloody well drugged our water."

Crawley shrugged. "Details, besides you two needed sleep to discuss your issues like actual adults."

Alex grimaced. "Fine. I won't murder you in your sleep with a pillow after all."

Crawley snorted. "What is it you wanted to tell us anyway?"

Alex sighed. He wondered where to begin. "Well, I was doing my own independent research into my parent's' death, and-"

Crawley interrupted. "You what?!"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Research. Dead parents. Traitor we don't know about."

Ian began to pace. "You could have been discovered."

Alex rolled his eyes. He couldn't help himself sometimes. "Moving on from your well-meaning, but grossly interfering concern."

Ian and Crawley glared at him. "My best guess is ASH for our guy."

Ian froze mid-pace. "Why?"

Alex wondered how to phrase it. Then he remembered the story ASH had told him on the plane. "For one, he would have been the most vulnerable to manipulation. Think about it, Blunt could have threatened me or mom if he wanted dad back or lied about a threat by terrorists to us. Same with Jones. Mum's family would have just sent Marion to execute you and Dad. You and Crawley are out and the housekeeper fainted at the sight of an open wound. Plus, ASH had just gotten injured and demoted because of the whole Malta deal. He was injured; he was going to be in pain for the rest of his life, and Blunt emotionally scalped him just after he got out of the hospital."

Crawley and Ian exchanged a look. "You know, he does have a point, Ian."

Ian sighed and started pacing. "Plus, ASIS has had a problem with leaks from around the same time until now. Everybody knows that."

Crawley sighed. "What the hell are we going to do?"

Alex shrugged. "He isn't the best at undercover. I mean, Blunt had a point when he said that ASH would never be as good as dad. How do you people normally trap traitors and do we want to go through official channels?"

Crawley and Ian exchanged a look. "Not really. I should, though."

Crawley groaned. He was outnumbered. Alex was smart. Ian was fast. "Ian! You're already in trouble for extrajudicial and unsanctioned killings as it is."

Alex got an evil grin on his face. He could get revenge on the Snakeheads and ASH. "Whoever said he had to disappear? We could just pin it on the triads or something."

Crawley sighed. "We should really take this to Ethan Brooke and Jones."

Ian growled. "They had their bloody chance and they failed. It's our turn."

Alex shrugged and looked at Crawley. He knew the man hated negotiating with crime syndicates, but he had to be careful not to drop into blatant manipulation. "It'll probably fuck up the negotiations, too. ASIS tends to shoot first and ask questions later when an agent dies."

Crawley looked a lot younger for a second. "I'm in."

* * *

As it turned out, murdering an intelligence agent and pinning it on the triads was actually a lot of planning. ASH had a tendency to disappear for several hours (heaven knows how Ethan Brooke never got suspicious, but it wasn't their problem). Ian and Crawley had been reluctant to let him help with the planning and outright refused to include him in the execution of the plan. It was only after he figured out a way for the 'triads' to get past the man's home security that they let him help at all. Crawley seemed a little unnerved by his ability, but Ian would look almost mournful when he thought Alex wasn't looking. Alex sighed. Well, at least he could keep his promise to Yassen. Sort of. They had quickly figured out it would be easier (and more plausible) to get to ASH in his home. He tried not to overhear Ian and Crawley talking that night, but he couldn't help the hotel walls. "Ian, no normal kid can do that is what I'm telling you."

Ian exhaled. "I know. Do you think I didn't notice? He's better than I am and we both know it."

Alex rolled over to listen better. The next part was inaudible, but they both got slightly louder after a few seconds. "What's your point, Crawley?"

Crawley sighed. "I don't really know, Ian. It's almost like not all of John died that night, but they really are different."

Ian sounded suspiciously soft. "Do you think I don't know, Crawley? Sometimes, it's like my brother is still around and then Alex will sometimes be his own person."

Crawley groaned. "Alex isn't your brother."

Ian sounded snappy. "I _know_ that Crawley."

Crawley sighed. "Do you? Because sometimes I really do wonder who you're talking to when the two of you speak. Mission planning?"

Ian sounded pissed. "He offered to help. We actually needed his help."

Crawley sighed. "I'm not trying to fight you Ian, but if the choice was between permanently scarring your nephew and vengeance for your brother, I sincerely hope you would choose Alex."

Ian sounded close to tears. "I would and you know it."

Crawley's voice turned gentle. "Sorry, it was kind of over the line."

Alex held his breath. "No, it's just...I do forget his age sometimes."

Crawley sounded bitter. "Don't we all?"

* * *

Alex felt himself freeze in shock. Of all the people to defend him, Crawley would have been lower on the list. It did kind of confirm Jerry's suspicion about Ian not being totally mentally healthy, but Alex had pretty much known that already. Black ops were not exactly conducive to mental health and that was without having family to worry about (aside from Jack, his had been dead). Alex figured it might be because of him and Ian being together or maybe it was the fact that they had an actual relationship that wasn't work based. That and Crawley was the lonely workaholic type. Just living with him would encourage attachment due to the fact that Crawley had been alone. Crawley was also reasonably socially adjusted, and was probably going to be inclined to become attached to anything that resembled companionship (case in point, him and Ian versus the man's abstract loyalty to his bosses). Alex had read the man's file. Divorcee and no friends. That and the fact that the man had originally been an intellectual. Intellectuals didn't do fanatic loyalty. Crawley knew full well who he was working for and had accepted the fact a long time ago, but it didn't mean didn't eventually want something for himself, like (cough) a family. Alex considered Ian for a bit. Now that he knew the man better, well...Ian wasn't exactly whole. He had to wonder if the man had kept his distance last time around because he wanted Alex to have the impression of stability. That and it was clear that Ian was still not over his brother and sister-in-law's death. The revenge plan, for one. Alex would be the first to admit that it wasn't the product of an entirely stable and wholesome psyche. Namely, they all wanted revenge. Alex suspected that none of them had really gotten over those particular deaths. He'd obsessively tore through what they knew about ASH's security until he found holes and then they'd plotted the man's death and partial dismemberment in minute detail. Yeah, he couldn't really talk. Their revenge was entirely selfish and had the distinct possibility of starting a conflict between ASIS and a gang. Alex felt bad for the possible future deaths, but he wanted ASH to die just a little more than he cared. It might have something to do with the way the man had forked him over to Yu, just a little bit.

* * *

When Cossack heard of ASH's death, he made a mental note not to look overly cheerful. He had been dropping his student off at Malagosto at the time in full view of twenty witnesses and a board member, a watertight alibi even by SCORPIA standards. The Doctor had shot him a speculative look, but hadn't said anything. Yet. He knew the man would take the first excuse to pull him aside. ASH had been valuable, if heavily disliked among the organization. Even after John Rider's treachery, he still had admirers of his skill. Frankly, the man had simply been more charming and ASH was considered petty, even by their standards. Three was calling him to the office. Joy. "Cossack, your student is at the top of her class by a wide margin."

Yassen sighed. "I expect her skills to remain acceptable."

The unspoken sentiment that the rest of the students weren't was very much there. "The board is delighted by your choice to educate a young individual."

Yassen was sure they were. "I'm sure you're just devastated about Anthony's passing."

Three had a morbid sense of humor. "Yes, Doctor, I fear the senior operatives might need grief counseling."

Alex's sense of humor was contagious, apparently. As was his impulsivity. To his surprise, Three's lips were twitching. "Oh, dear. Whatever shall we do?"

Cossack rolled his eyes. "I'm sure Dr. Steiner will rise to the challenge."

Yassen heard the man snorting as he exited the room. Nile stepped out from the shadows. "I told you I wasn't hallucinating."

The Doctor shrugged. "Cossack has always had a faint note of sarcasm."

Nile mentally slapped down the retort that it would have been easier on his nerves if he had known that before working with the holy terror. "Well, sir, I rest my case."

Three was actually fond of Nile. Every teacher had their favorites. Yassen and Nile both. Rhea was most likely ending up on the list too if he was going, to be honest. "Yes. How goes the investigation into the mysterious Mr. Pierre?"

Nile sighed. "We've hit a dead end and Chase is in contact."

The Doctor sighed. "Mr. Chase _is_ one of the more personable members of the board. I do hope he doesn't allow his impulsivity to get the better of him."

Nile mentally sighed at the unsubtle jab. "His approach has its benefits, Doctor. Besides, what levels of instability do you take?"

The comment and question slipped out before Nile could stop himself. The Doctor seemed to ignore his retort and think of a reply. "It really does depend, Nile. You'll learn these things over time."

Nile took that as a dismissal. "Yes, sir."

* * *

Alex Rider heard of the death of ASH for the second time on the news. Of course, they listed him as a dead banker mysteriously murdered by a gang for unknown reasons. Ian and Crawley were using each other and him as their alibi. Ethan Brooke had not been best pleased with the man's death, even though a few days of Ian and Crawley snooping had let them leave evidence of ASH's treachery at his house. Alex had come down to four very grumpy-looking adults that morning. Ian and Crawley and Brooke and a guy who Alex presumed was the man's current assistant. "Why is the kid here?"

Alex crossed his arms. "The housekeeper was otherwise occupied, _not_ that it is _any_ of your business you nosy-"

Crawley cut him off. Alex realized he was still a little sore about the man's 'test' in the past life. "Alex, language and manners."

Alex sounded as sarcastic as possible. "Sorry."

Crawley exhaled. "Maybe go back to sleep?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, probably. I'm kind of tired because of the time change."

Alex turned around and went upstairs. He was actually tired from worrying all night about Crawley and Ian, but he wasn't going to say so in front of Brooke. He just hoped they'd done everything right. It wasn't that he didn't have faith in Ian and Crawley, it was just that...Well, Ian had died last time and Crawley had needed his help with something. Brooke felt vaguely amused. "Wonder where he got the language from."

The two MI6 agents rolled their eyes. "Shut up, Brooke."

The Australian took a particular glee in taunting his British counterparts. "Yeah, real mature you two."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Back to our point, Brooke, we were here the whole night with my nephew."

Brooke sighed. "Yeah, I figured; it's procedure to check anyway, you two."

Brooke decided it was best to leave after that. Hopefully, an investigation would shed light on the culprits, although the primary suspects were the triads. The kill style matched, but how would the triads have found out about Howell being SCORPIA's before they did and had time to murder him? Then again, it wouldn't be the first time the criminal underworld had proved itself ahead of legitimate intelligence services.

* * *

Alex came back a few hours later and with a lot more sleep. Crawley raised an eyebrow at him. "Something we need to know about you and Brooke?"

Alex rubbed his forehead. "Err, no. Sorry, I was kind of sleep deprived."

Ian snorted. "Well, at least there's that."

Alex grimaced. "Yeah, we'd be kind of screwed if Brooke turned out to be a turncoat."

Ian sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Don't even think of that, please. A high-ranking agent is bad enough."

Crawley decided to cut both of them off before it devolved into another age-inappropriate talk. "Alright, you two, no talking about death, destruction, or mayhem at the dinner table."

Alex grinned and widened his eyes. "But what else do we talk about?"

Crawley rolls his eyes. "I don't know. Your schooling, maybe?"

Alex snorted. "I'm outrageously ahead of my peers and currently studying the pre-med track, along with languages and self-defense."

Crawley muttered under his breath. "Yeah, and you're not full of yourself at all."

Alex sighed. "I didn't mean it like that, but we did just have a family meeting."

Ian grimaced. "Was I really gone that much?"

He hadn't noticed how used to talking to him just over once a month Alex had gotten. Alex twitched. Was he supposed to answer that honestly? His face must have told the two of them enough because Ian suddenly looked guilty. Crawley sighed. "I sure you were really trying, Ian."

Ian sighed. "I was, but the job just kind of took over, you know, especially as I got promoted."

Alex could empathize. MI6 and a normal life were nearly impossible to balance. "It's fine."

Crawley ran his hands through his hair. "I honestly don't think either you or Ian really knows the meaning of the word."

Alex awkwardly tapped his fingers against the table and avoided looking at either of them. Maybe Jerry did have a point. _And what would he know?_ The darker part of him whispered. _After all, none of them had to be you._ He quashed the thought down and ditched both of his guardians for his room as fast as he possibly could.

* * *

Alex knew this was a bad idea. The bad idea part should probably have been capitalized, but he wanted to be outside. That and people went out alone all the time in Australia. What were the odds he'd run into the four or five people he wasn't supposed to meet? Pretty low, right? Alex put on all of his weapons just in case. He walked outside at approximately one o'clock in the morning. His dog would have made a nice addition to the walk, but Fenrir was in England. The moon was full in the remarkably clear night sky. There was a slow dead silence that was occasionally punctuated by the breeze and a few chirps, whirs, and hisses. The wilderness was beautiful, even at night. Then again, there was nobody around and that was how he wanted it to be at the moment. No guardians, no people, and he was going to patently ignore his problems at the moment. The moonlight cast a silver glow on the leaves of the plants. Now that he wasn't running from megalomaniacs or trying to break into their ludicrous compounds, he decided to stop and appreciate nature. He walked for a few hours at a slow meandering pace, not bothering to take in the landmarks. The terrain became slightly more treacherous, but he didn't mind the challenge. Suddenly, he instinctively froze and slowly drew his knife. Wonderful, it was a snake. If Alex remembered correctly, it was one of the more poisonous ones. The head was still, but the snake itself was coiling, preparing to strike. Alex slowly moved into position. The snake struck in a speedy blur, but Alex was faster. In a flash of steel, the head was removed. Alex resisted the impulse to throw up as he watched the decapitated body writhe for a few minutes before stilling and collapsing to the ground. He was still gagging when someone stepped out from the bushes. Fuck. It was Nile, of all people. Great, he wanted to talk, too. "Nice slice."

Alex sighed. Some things didn't change. "What do you want?"

Nile countered with a question of his own. "What's a French kid doing here?"

Alex sighed. "I'm on vacation."

Nile raised an eyebrow. "In the middle of the school year?"

Alex wondered why today was the day Nile chose to be a nice human being. "I go to an unorthodox school."

Nile looked very skeptical. "Your guardians are okay with this?"

Alex wondered why Nile gave a shit. "I have unorthodox guardians."

Nile just looked weirded out. " _Okay_. Do _you_ want _help_ getting back to your _unorthodox_ guardians?"

Why was Nile doing this? Seriously, the guy was _way_ too nice for a terrorist. "I'll be fine."

Nile shrugged. "How about I come with you anyway?"

Alex scowled. "How about I get a restraining order?"

Nile sighed. "I'd feel bad about leaving a kid to the outback."

Alex kept on scowling. "Fine." Nile breathed out heavily and walked beside him.

* * *

Nile had a daily morning workout. It helped him deal with the stress of his job. That and it had the added benefit of keeping him fit for it. Since Brendan Chase, whose security he was currently in charge of, liked to start early, he started his workout just before dawn. The combat teams would survive without him in charge for a few hours and they had standing instructions, anyway. The sun had just about risen when he came across a kid. A closer look told him it was the kid from the train. He hadn't gotten a name. Then, he noticed the snake that came out of nowhere. To his surprise, he felt a jolt of alarm and quietly began to draw his knife. With a flash of steel and a movement at a speed that he didn't think should be possible for anyone, especially the kid, the snake was decapitated mid-strike. Well, he was officially unofficially interested. The kid was gagging, but not throwing up. Nile decided to step out of the bushes. "What do you want?"

The kid looked annoyed. Nile wasn't really sure himself, quite frankly. Not that he would say so. "What's a French kid doing here?"

Why wasn't he in school, where children belonged? "I go to an unorthodox school." What school would that be? The crime syndicate school of how best to murder your enemies and take out the competition? "Your guardians are okay with this?"

He was trying, he really was. "I have _unorthodox_ guardians."

Was that the street code for complete nutjobs? Nile wondered why he cared. " _Okay_. Do _you_ want _help_ getting back to your unorthodox guardians?"

Drug or sex traffickers, maybe? Or just really eccentric? "I'll be fine."

Yeah, because an eleven-year-old wandering the Australian outback for hours on end was _totally_ fine. "How about I come with you anyway?"

The kid scowled. Yeah, he would have been suspicious too. "How about I get a restraining order?"

Nile sighed. The kid might trust him sometime in the next ten years, sometime. Maybe. If he was really lucky. "I'd feel bad about leaving a kid in the outback."

Nile would feel bad about leaving _this one_ alone in the outback, at any rate. "Fine."

Since the kid let him come, he wasn't about to push it. Though truthfully, it was only this kid he'd feel bad about abandoning. He didn't normally care about people that much or mind killing them. The kid predictably ditched him the minute they got to civilization. Nile just sighed. He was debating the merits of stalking a kid versus guarding his boss. Damn. He was guarding his boss. This was what he was paid for. Now, he had an extra-long workout to report to his boss. Chase would take it, mainly because he'd had to work with Gregorovich in the past year. Apparently, several other second in commands were still in therapy when not on assignment. Yeah, maybe they should quit trying to meddle with the assassin. Not that he would say so to their faces. He liked breathing.

* * *

Alex's guardians had been less than pleased with his disappearing act. When he said that, it meant Ian and Crawley were currently extremely pissed. In his defense, he had really forgotten to leave a note. Alex still wasn't quite used to having people actually care where he disappeared off to. Besides, he'd come back in reasonable time for breakfast. That particular statement hadn't particularly helped his cause. He'd decided to conveniently not mention meeting Nile again and the snake whose head he had in his backpack to collect the venom from. It was extremely venomous, as it turned out - the guides for tourists had pictures to go with their information. Waste not, want not. Ian had then walked in on him mid-venom collection. Yeah, he was so going to be grounded. Crawley sighed. "Killing snakes for their venom is antisocial."

Alex sighed. "It attacked me first."

Ian sighed. "I'm pretty sure taking that home is illegal."

Alex was feeling hungry and sleep-deprived. "I'm pretty sure your job is illegal."

Ian sighed and handed him breakfast. He finished removing the venom from the snake's head and sealed it off. Alex was careful to wash his hands before eating his breakfast. "Why were you out anyway?"

Alex sighed. "I couldn't sleep."

Crawley and Ian exchanged a glance. "Any reason in particular?"

Alex drummed his fingers against the table. "Not really."

Ian gave him a pleading look. "Alex."

Alex sighed. "I'm tired now."

Crawley sighed. "Not really the point, kid. In your family, sleeping problems mean other problems."

Alex avoided looking them in the eyes. "I just needed time to think."

The two men let it go, for now. Alex could sense the upcoming awkward family discussion.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was summarily summoned by Brendan Chase and Doctor Three, again. Three started. "Cossack, do come in."

Yassen sighed. They had definitely stepped up their meddling into his life in the past couple of years. Cossack was pretty sure quite a few of their second-in-commands had needed therapy. "Dear Anthony was executed this week."

Yassen barely resisted a snort. Even Yu hadn't liked the man. Nile was in the corner. "I take it you have a point you are getting to."

Chase sighed. "Unpleasant business that, but we do need to investigate. It doesn't do to leave these things unresolved. Bad for business."

Yassen shrugged. "My usual pay will do."

Chase paused. "We'll send you with a partner."

It wasn't a request. Rhea wasn't ready. "Nile will do fine."

He took a vindictive pleasure in hearing the man attempt to suppress a sound that was halfway between a squeak and a choke. Three just looked a little too pleased with the result. Yassen had figured Nile was with the board anyhow. At least the man wasn't that much of a royal pain in the ass and he actually tried to be helpful. The two men exited. Nile seemed to be paranoidly twitching. "So...so, why'd you pick me?"

Yassen huffed. "You were there and you aren't a pain in the ass."

Nile paused. "Why are they sending us instead of intelligence?"

Yassen shrugged. "They want us to execute the most convenient fall guy, not necessarily the actual culprit."

Nile just looked at him. "How long have you been at this?"

Yassen shrugged. "Twelve years, give or take my training."

Nile sighed. "Is there something you need, Nile?"

Nile rolled his eyes. "A social life, apparently."

Yassen's lips twitched. "I am afraid you are on your own there, Nile."

Nile actually laughed. "You could act nicer, you know."

Cossack rolled his eyes. "Over your cold, decomposing corpse, perhaps."

Nile figured it was a lost cause and decided to shut up.

* * *

Jerry Harris was pleasantly surprised to find out that Alex was completely right about his loving Naples. It was warm, sunny, had cheap housing and a rather large amount of exciting sports groups. He'd decided to teach English and was doing okay in terms of making a living. Jerry had chosen his hobby over his furniture and it showed, but he didn't much care. The beach was quite something and there was sun almost every day. Jerry picked up the phone. "Hey, Jerry."

Jerry smiled. "Alex. You were right, you know."

Alex grinned. "I usually am, but about what?"

Jerry shook his head. "Naples, man. You know, the place you suggested I live."

Alex chuckled. "Yeah, I'm glad you like it."

Alex was. Jerry deserved to be happy. "Thanks, man. How's it going?"

Alex felt his smile fade slightly. "Ian took me to Australia for a few weeks. The wilderness is amazing."

Jerry chuckled. "I'm sure. How many toxic animals have you run into?"

Alex grinned. "Only one snake tried to bite me so far."

Jerry snorted. "Only one, huh. I'll be holding my breath."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Scandalous exaggeration, Jer, scandalous exaggeration."

Jerry hung up on him. Ian walked into his room and took a look at his study set up. "You do know that you can't read four books at the same time, right?"

Alex was feeling particularly belligerent toward his uncle. "You know some people have different study styles, right?"

Ian heaved a sigh. "Alex, I'm worried about you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It was only one night, Ian."

Ian looked at him sharply. "No, it's not. It's been almost every night this year. You only sleep six hours a day and you should be sleeping ten or twelve."

Alex shrugged. "I thought that was teenagers."

Ian resisted the urge to facepalm. "No, that's everybody."

Alex resisted the urge to tell Ian about a certain assassin who managed just fine with four. "Your point?"

Ian sighed. "We'll just have to make sure you sleep."

Alex sighed. Damn, they were going to be watching him from now on.


	36. Fire and Fury

Behind his jovial and calm demeanor, Ethan Brooke was furious. It was his job to root out traitors. He'd failed that. It had been his job to reign in the triads, who seemed to have discovered intelligence before he did. Evidently, they had no issues with flagrantly murdering an agent, even if he was a SCORPIA mole. The Brits hadn't seemed surprised enough at Howell being a traitor to not know anything, but he knew he'd never get it out if Blunt, even if they had. They had suspicions with no concrete evidence. Then there was the fact that those two had brought a kid along, even if he was nowhere near the negotiations. If that wasn't a blatant violation of MI6 policy, he'd eat his shoe. The two men had been far too cheerful to hear that the negotiations had fallen through in favor of the investigation into the Triads for his liking. That and the little shits refused to own up to it, claiming they'd been framed. Framed, his ass. They did still have to investigate, though. Brooke had decided he was conveniently not going to mention that SCORPIA operatives had been in the area. If the Brits or the Triads ran into a problem, they could deal with it. That and Blunt had pissed him off by sending Ian Rider. The guy was the epitome of a loose cannon when he wasn't his usual silver-tongued self. He would bet good money they either had something to do with Howell's death, the tapes, or both. Something about this was just a little too clean. He wasn't sure what was making him suspicious, but even if he knew for a fact Rider had something to do with it there wasn't much he'd be able to do to the man. The British were notorious for protecting their own. He'd bet Rider's back authorization paperwork was extensive (fudging the books to make it look like it was sanctioned). That and something about the kid was off. He didn't know anybody who voluntarily got up before five in the morning: kid, adult, or in-between. The whole thing reeked of an under the table operation, but there wasn't much he could do without extensive proof. Jones would side with Rider on principle and so would Blunt. Then, Blunt would have him buried just for giggles. Vicious bastard. Brooke remembered what the man had done in the Cold War just fine.

* * *

Nile was once again twitching. Cossack was being more antisocial than usual and that really said something. He knew nobody had liked Howell, but Cossack seemed to take having to investigate the man's death by what appeared to be a rival Triad as a personal insult. Nile sighed as Gregorovich returned from his exercise. He'd decided not to mention little blondie no-name to anybody. There was no way it could possibly end well. The SCORPIA version of internal affairs, the finance committee, was no terrifying. There were horror stories whispered around the island a few times. They didn't just investigate bank accounts either, despite the boring-sounding name. If he didn't have the rest of the snake's body in his freezer, he would have thought he was getting stress-induced hallucinations. Hey, it had happened before to saner operatives, admittedly, they had been on antibiotics with known side-effects, but still… Nile knew keeping the frozen body of a dead snake was not a good coping mechanism, but he really was very much stressed. He checked that it was there at least twice a day. Unfortunately, today was the day Gregorovich caught him at it. "Why is there a dead snake with no head in your freezer?"

It was a valid question, but Nile couldn't really think of a good answer that wouldn't get him mandatory psychiatric leave (or an execution, if they thought he was too much of a risk). "Um, I can't decide whether it's worth the bother of eating it or not?"

Nile was mentally hitting himself for that reply, but it was short notice and he had to live with Yassen. Gregorovich stared at him for half a minute. Nile did his best not to fidget or run away screaming. You know, perfectly normal reactions to seeing Cossack. "The answer is no, Nile. Snakes are a pain in the ass to clean and cook."

Yassen approached him slowly. "Nile?"

Nile delicately paused in his task of putting the snake back in the freezer. "Yes, Cossack?"

The man looked amused. "The trashcan is the other way."

Nile twitched. This was bad for his paranoia. Darn, it looks like he wasn't keeping Slither the biting snake anymore. "I knew that."

The man huffed and walked toward his bedroom. He suspected the assassin was laughing at him. At least they had separate rooms.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was not happy with his current status of having to bullshit an investigation before murdering a bunch of Triads. It wasn't the murder he minded, but the tedium of board politics. He was really looking forward to not having to deal with the board as much as he used to. Plus, they'd assigned him a partner...again. Nile seemed to be dealing better than most of the people in SCORPIA would with the combined pressure of him, the board, and Chase's security, but considering most of them would be gibbering lunatics at the thought of daily interaction with him that wasn't really saying much. Although, lately the man seemed extra nervous. Yassen wondered if he'd have to turn in yet another colleague for psychiatric treatment. Most people just didn't do well around him. Then, he walked in on Nile with a headless frozen corpse of a tiger snake. Well, he supposed there could be a valid reason for this, but it was unlikely. "Why is there a dead snake with no head in your freezer?"

Yassen had never been good at subtle conversation, though he understood it. He was the type to be blunt. "Um, I can't decide whether it's worth the bother of eating it or not?"

He stared at the man and wondered if he was joking. Probably not. It was definitely a lie, but they were not eating that without a food shortage, thank you very much. "The answer is no, Nile. Snakes are a pain in the ass to clean and cook."

He approached the man slowly. Best to check for signs of psychosis. "Nile?"

The man was not going towards the trash can. Best not to let the man keep the snake corpse. They tended to get accidentally thawed and stink up the place. "Yes, Cossack?"

Ah, the man looked terrified. He tended to have that effect on people. "The trashcan is the other way."

Nile twitched. Yassen made a mental note to try not to take out his frustration on his coworker. "I knew that."

Yes, the man was definitely close to a mental breakdown. Now, how long would it take Chase to notice? This could be interesting, unlike his assignment.

* * *

Nile decided that since he was already mid-mental breakdown, he would go for another hike at night. Maybe Blondie would be out. Nile knew his obsession with Blondie was bad news, but the kid was probably the only interesting thing in his life that wasn't a threat as far as he knew. He decided to get in his sleep now so he wouldn't be exhausted on top of everything else. The alarm was set for about the time he suspected Blondie started his walks. He sincerely hoped he never had to explain this to his bosses. _No, Mr. Chase, we don't discuss anything of import. No, I'm definitely not a pedophile. Yes, I'm a trained operative, but I somehow forget to ask his name each and every time we meet and he accuses me of being a creep. No, I don't know anything about his background._ Yeah, he could definitely see that conversation ending _so_ well. Not. Besides, he had no idea why he kept running into the kid in the oddest places. It was weird. A bit like the stories his mother had told him before his family had been killed. They had been full of magic and gods and fate. Then again, he didn't believe in such things. Blondie was definitely becoming his new obsse-hobby. Hobby is what he meant to say. It was definitely a hobby and he was still putting his work first. Against his better judgment, he set out into the semi-wild for a walk at sort of midnight. The darkness fell over the desert like ink. The only light was from the moon and the stars. The desert was cold at night. The pace he set would allow him to stay warm and out of most people's sight. Nile put on his bullet-proof clothing and weapons. It wasn't Blondie he was worried about, but you could never be too careful. The sigh he withheld was a pure habit. Next to no people were up at this hour. Unbeknownst to him, he was being followed by his senior partner.

* * *

Alex Rider, for all intents and purposes, was currently ignoring his guardian's rules in a fit of pique. He would blame his (currently nonexistent) hormones if anybody asked. After sleeping way in on his guardians' insistence, he was not exactly tired enough to sleep at night, even after completing his daily workout. He'd had to hide that from Ian and Crawley after they insisted he take the day off. That and the fact he'd sat in silence for a solid six hours staring them down had convinced them that grounding him was the best answer. Here he was, sneaking out into the sort of wild trail he'd gone on yesterday. It was a terrible idea since he knew Nile and probably SCORPIA was nearby, but the worst that could happen was dying, right? And he couldn't even do that. Sure enough, the tell-tale glint of metal in the shadows flashed in the corner of his eye. "Come out, come out, wherever you are."

Nile seemed to flash into existence. Alex thought that Yassen did it better, but wasn't about to say so. "Isn't that my line?"

Nile's lips were faintly upturned. "Only in a cheesy-ass American movie. I'm seriously considering that restraining order, you know."

Nile was smirking against his will. "Oh, but then you'd have no one to meet on your walks at six in the morning and three in the morning."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "On the contrary, I, unlike you, have friends and hence company on my walks _when I want it._ "

Alex wondered what possessed him to cheek one of SCORPIA's best assassins like that. Nile hadn't had anyone besides his bosses stand up to him in years. "You're rather impertinent."

Alex grinned. Best to roll with this now, right? "Yeah, and you don't seem like a pedophilic creep, not at all."

Nile sighed. "What is it with you and rape? If I was going to, I would've kidnapped you by now."

Alex snorted. "You could be one of those weirdos who try to be friends with the kids first. I think it was called grooming or something."

Nile sighed. "And you've been watching _way_ too much _Cops_."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm not allowed to watch more than one hour of television. Besides, it just government propaganda and propaganda sponsored by various groups of dubious morals."

Nile mentally groaned and tried not to laugh at the same time. "You're a jaded little brat."

Alex widened his eyes innocently. "And you just now realized that? No wonder your boss takes pity on you and lets you wander the wilderness."

Nile mentally bashed his head against an imaginary wall. He'd walked right into that one. Alex checked his watch. "Yeah, I have to go now. I'm kinda not supposed to be out here."

Nile went after him. What? A rich kid with actual disciplinary consequences. Maybe he wouldn't grow up to be a complete shit. "You actually get grounded?"

Alex snorted. "Yeah, but I break out of the house sometimes."

Nile rubbed the back of his head. "You won't get eaten by a kangaroo on the way back, right?"

Alex sighed. "Kangaroos are herbivores. And no, I won't get myself clawed by a cassowary on the way back. Bye."

* * *

Yassen eavesdropped on the conversation and was torn between amusement and alarm. Did Alex _know_ how dangerous encouraging Nile's obsession was? Sociopaths were not safe, to begin with, and Nile was a trained killer on top of that. Plus, Alex was _his_. Then again, Alex might not realize that his telling Nile to get lost was actually encouraging the man, especially by contradicting the statement with his actions. Nile had most likely been drawn to Alex due to the nature of his (and Alex's) training. Any elite operative in SCORPIA who interacted with Alex would clearly be able to see something was different, even if they didn't consciously realize why. That and the fact that it was most likely that Alex had decapitated the snake they had in their freezer. Nile wouldn't keep the body of a snake he'd killed himself. Nile was already sure of his skills. Now, Alex on the other hand...Yassen could see why someone would want physical proof the event actually happened. How Alex managed to look perfectly harmless when he was partially trained as a killer/ intelligence agent was anybody's guess. Yassen suspected it had something to do with his mentality. At any rate, it was probably best to scare Nile off. Yassen appeared from the shadows and felt a grim sense of satisfaction as the man jumped. "Nile. Stalking children are we?"

Nile mentally moaned. He knew he shouldn't have done this. He was going to die. "For fuck's sake, man, it is not my fault that Blondie and I keep meeting. He _needs_ a new guardian."

Cossack's lips twitched. "No shit, Nile. It is not our concern, however."

Nile sighed. "I'm just curious is all, really."

Cossack mentally rolled his eyes. "Curiosity gets you shot by the executive board. Shall we get back now?"

Nile sighed. Looks like Blondie would not be followed today. It was probably for the best anyway. Blondie was taking up more of his attention span than a kid probably should.

* * *

Brendan Chase wondered what workout regime could possibly involve hikes at three in the morning. Then again, if he had to share a floor with Cossack, he'd probably ditch the place as much as possible. His two operatives entered the room. "Report." Nile started. "Intelligence communities are blaming the Triads. They uncovered the fact that Howell was a mole, but not who his handler was…"

The report continued for a few hours. The two prepared to leave shortly afterward. "Nile, do stay back a minute."

Talk about near heart attacks. Nile didn't visibly react. "Yes, Mr. Chase."

Chase sighed mentally. Most people were simply not equipped to handle Gregorovich for any significant length of time. Nile was acting like a skittish cat. "Is everything alright, Nile?"

Contrary to popular belief, the board was not entirely uninterested in the mental state of their operatives. Mainly because the training was expensive and having your operatives go insane mid-assignment didn't end well. "Yes, sir. I'll be glad when this is over, though."

Chase found himself chuckling. "Nile, it's okay to be a bit nervous around Gregorovich. We keep him around to be a breathing nightmare, you know. I've already made your appointments with our psychology department."

If Nile had any hair, he'd be running his hands through it. "Thank you, sir."

Well, it could have also been a plea for help, but Chase was not really the best at feelings and coworkers. Chase sighed. He did actually like Nile. As much as he let himself like any of their elite operatives, anyway. "No problem. Just try to keep a sleep schedule of some sort and don't freeze any more dead snakes."

Nile sighed. "I just…"

Chase cut him off. "It's okay. Cossack tends to drive people looney. I remember when one of Kurst's people started going off the rails."

Chase chuckled at a memory. Kurst hadn't found it nearly as amusing. "Anyway, just ask for separate floors if it's too much. I'm sure one of the dozen guest rooms should work."

Nile shrugged. "I'm good for now, sir."

He'd stick this mission out and then take a long, long assignment after a month of vacation in a different hemisphere from Cossack. You could almost mistake Chase for being kind. Almost.

* * *

Alex managed to silently break back into his own apartment and get a few hours of sleep without Ian and Crawley being the wiser. He reminded himself not to look overly smug in the morning at breakfast. It was kind of fun, he reflected, taunting Nile like that. Probably not fun for his life expectancy, but it definitely made things interesting. Besides, he still felt like his grounding was completely unfair. It wasn't his fault that walks at three in the morning were the only thing that helped his insomnia due to a variety of stressors. Besides, he needed to study and train. How else would he be able to survive if people decided to come after him? One day off probably wouldn't kill him, but he wanted to take them on his own terms, not Ian's. Alex could be quiet as long as he felt like it. It was one of the few things he'd learned about as a kid but then forgotten about when he got older. Silence, he could live with. It made him uncomfortable and he disliked having dead silence with company, but he could live with it. There had been a few things that he hadn't told Jack about. He remembered when he was five and Ian had been gone unexpectedly. The housekeeper before Jack had left and he'd spent nearly three months in total silence. The only noise had come from the outside world. He'd lived like that until one of the neighbors had taken pity on him. Her name had been...Anna? Alina? No, it had been Anmar Khoury. Ian had discouraged him from keeping contact, but he wondered if she'd remember him. Alex remembered her address quite well. If it hadn't changed, that is. He got up after realizing he wasn't going back to sleep. Breakfast was in two hours, but he figured that he be fine since he'd gotten a total of twelve hours in the past few days. Alex grabbed a blank sheet and took a deep breath before composing his letter.

* * *

_Dear Ms. Khoury,_

_I'm not sure if you remember me or not, but we knew each other almost six years ago to this day. You were one of the few adults that left an impression (a good one) and I just wanted to see if we could meet up sometime. I miss your chocolate chip cookies. Do you mind if I write?_

_Alex Rider_

* * *

Alex figured that it didn't sound too lonely or obsessive. He sighed as he sealed the letter and decided to post it here. Alex slipped out the front door of his room and asked the hotel staff for stamps. Apparently, they'd even post the letter for you. Alex totally lied and said it was for his aunt, but he figured it would raise fewer flags than 'a nice lady I haven't seen since I was five'. Actually, he had decided that while he was in a letter writing mood, he'd send one to his relatives, Jack, and Sarov. Really, he was only bending the truth. The clerk at the front desk had commented that he had a very international family, but hadn't said anything else. Alex had snorted and agreed. He'd gone back up to his room and grabbed his textbooks that weren't confiscated and started reading them. Ian didn't exactly know about these ones and Alex didn't plan on telling him. Some were from Yassen and Sarov and others were from the base. Alex sent in his next set of questions to Charles, who was being surprisingly helpful and left a message on Mandy's answering machine (the time change meant that she and her family were most likely out of the house). It was a nice, productive two hours without Ian breathing down his neck and demanding answers. He packed up his secret textbooks and got dressed just in time for breakfast without being disturbed. Ian eyed him suspiciously as he sat down. Alex raised an eyebrow in a defiant expression that all but yelled _bring it_. Crawley sighed. Alex almost pitied the man. People caught in his and Ian's family arguments tended not to do too well. Then again, Crawley should have known what he was signing up for when he started dating Ian. "Can you two quit the Cold War until after we get back?"

Ian and Alex answered as one. "No, Crawley."

Crawley sighed again. Alex watched Ian walk away to work and then was suddenly inspired. "You're not really going to let him just join in with the Australians, are you?"

Crawley eyed him. "How would you know about-"

Alex cut him off. "Not important. Don't you want to make sure he doesn't get into trouble?"

Crawley sighed. Mini was just as bad. "Yes, but-"

Alex grinned. Crawley had never felt more trapped in his life. "Then, why don't we follow him?"

Crawley wondered why it was him some days. He hoped he enjoyed whatever it was he'd done in the past life.

* * *

Mini, as it turns out, was better than him at tailing people and not getting spotted. They made it the whole way to the Australian base of operations without being spotted. Crawley actually had a question. "So what about the park?"

Mini shrugged. "Oh, I totally made you. Ian said not to worry about it."

Crawley had never been more grateful in his life that Ian could call his nephew off (for the most part). He loved trips to the emergency room about as much as the next guy. "What now?"

Mini grinned that Cheshire grin of his. "Now, we go for a walk."

Crawley hated his life sometimes. The Australians may have well as posted a sign outside their office. They had a lot of people in the area that looked just a little too much like bricks to be your average civilians. Or so Mini claimed. Crawley had started tuning him out and internally panicking some time ago. Ian was going to have an aneurysm when he found out where Alex was going on his walks. Speaking of aneurysms, he just about had one on the spot when Mini walked up to a weird guy with a sword strapped to his back. "You know, the museum district is the other way."

Crawley mentally cursed the fact that Mini inherited his family's sense of humor. To his utter surprise, the man laughed. "You know, the place for wise guys is across town right?"

The other guy looked vaguely familiar. Crawley couldn't put his finger on it. "Aww, but I'm not the person violating common decency. You know Khopeshes are so far out of fashion they're ancient, right?"

The man snorted. "I'm surprised you recognize it."

Alex grinned. "Oh, I like swords."

The man smirked. "And you accuse me of misinterpreting such obvious signals."

Mini raised an eyebrow. "And you wonder why I joke about that restraining order."

Crawley, having just gotten the sword joke, decided enough was enough. "You cannot just walk up to strangers and say shit like that."

He half dragged Alex away. In the opposite direction of the creep and sent him a glare for good measure. "Oh, but Crawley-"

Crawley cut him off. "Don't but Crawley me. This is how you get in trouble…"

Crawley lectured him for a while, but he got the feeling Alex was tuning him out.

* * *

Nile was minding his own business, he promised. It wasn't his fault Blondie kept turning up. I mean, was he _supposed_ to ignore that comment? Hell, no. Besides, Blondie was much more entertaining than watching an operation he knew most of the details of. Crawley, he knew that name. Crawley. It clicked. Agent John Crawley, MI6 fixer. They'd read about the two agents sent in to help the Australians, but it was different walking in the street near them. Who the hell was Blondie and why was _John Crawley_ with him? The man had no children. There was the other agent, he supposed. Ian Rider. MI6's current favorite. A combination of a silver tongue and an explosive temper where his nephew's safety - His nephew. Blondie. Shit. He'd actually liked the kid. Alex Rider son of John Rider - the Hunter, Cossack's mentor, and former instructor of Malagosto. Why was the kid in _Australia_? Hell, he remembered the recordings of Hunter and the kid even looked like him. The eyes and the blond hair. The flash of steel that had decapitated one of the most deadly snakes on the planet. They said Hunter was charming. The kid was...Well, what was he going to tell his boss? He sighed. Yassen. Yassen would probably know how to bring this up without getting shot. Nile finished up his observations for the day. The Australians would hit the two main strongholds of the Triad they were dealing with. The first day would have one burned to the ground and the second the other. What the Australians didn't know was that SCORPIA would be attacking the second one on the same day they attacked the first one. He had the squads and report ready, but first, he had to see Cossack. "Blondie is Alex Rider."

Cossack whipped around and Nile was pinned to the wall by two knives. "You do not say such things without proof."

Nile tried to see if he had room to maneuver. He didn't. "I have it."

Yassen advanced on him. "And what do you plan to do with the information?"

Nile felt his pulse begin to race. "I don't know."

Cossack leaned in closer. "Nothing is best."

Nile was doing his best to keep a coherent train of thought. "What do you mean?"

The man in black sighed. "If you like him, bringing this to the board's attention will bring only both of your suffering. Then, there is the chance both of you will be executed."

Nile resisted the urge to scream as Cossack moved in and pulled the knives out of the wall and his clothes. The cold steel brushed his sides uncomfortably. "Okay, I won't mention it to anyone then."

Yassen put away his knives. "Good. Oh, and Nile?"

Nile twitched. "Yes, Cossack?"

The man's lips twisted into something that was between a smile and a snarl. "If we eventually report him due to a change in circumstances, Alex Rider is _mine_."

Nile did his best to exit the room in a dignified manner. Normal Cossack was bad enough. Territorial Cossack was outright terrifying.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich waited until Nile walked hastily out of the room before breathing out a sigh of relief he hadn't realized he'd been holding. Nile had been easier to manipulate than he'd thought. It hadn't seemed to occur to the man that he could or would lie about the board's reactions to Alex Rider. Most likely, they would order that he be executed or (if they found out about his skills) they would order the execution of his friends and family and his apprenticeship to an elite operative. After which he would essentially be the board's property, assuming he survived. On the other hand, Alex really needed a lesson in telling sociopathic assassins to get lost (aside from himself, but he was only a near sociopath anyhow).

* * *

_-A_

_You kept meeting up with Nile. Why?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. Yassen was getting overprotective again. Besides, Nile wasn't the torturing type. Alex figured if he pissed the guy off there would be a sword sticking out of whatever fatal spot happened to be convenient. There really wasn't much to be afraid of, unless SCORPIA had decided to go after his family, again.

* * *

_-C_

_The first two times, it really was an accident. We have the same shady bank, remember? The second time, I was out for a walk and bitey the snake lost his head. I keep telling him to go away, you know. The third time, I was mad at Ian and kinda getting back at him and the fourth time I was tailing Ian with Crawley and, apparently, Nile was too. Should I be worried?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen was trying; he really was. Alex just had some of the worst luck in the universe combined with no common sense, apparently. Oh, well. At least Nile wasn't going to report him to the board. It was a good thing the man was new, or he would have been a lot less pliable.

* * *

_-A_

_You have way too many accidents Alex. Your uncle should lock you in the basement at this rate. After getting a therapist to teach you about healthy coping mechanisms, that is. No, your uncle is not slated for premature death at the moment. Keep your nose out of what the Australians have their mitts in, however. Let me just say that the Triads are going to have a really bad day soon. And Alex?_

_-C_

* * *

Yassen wondered whether he should have paid more attention to SCORPIA's psychology lessons. Then again, he was pretty sure dealing with children was not the subject of any of them, particularly children who were almost fully trained operatives. How did he put this? Oh, yes.

* * *

_-C_

_Yes, Yassen?_

_-A_

* * *

Alex could not shake the feeling that he was in whatever qualified as Yassen's version of deep shit. The man was probably pissed. Alex knew that talking to Nile was a bad idea, but it was fun and he had just been so pissed at Ian. Plus, Alex could appreciate the comedic implications of threatening the man with a restraining order. The police couldn't help you if you pissed off an assassin as well trained as Nile. In fact, you were definitely screwed.

* * *

_-A_

_I will not always be able to threaten SCORPIA operatives into silence about your identity and skills, just remember that._

_-C_

* * *

Actions had repercussions. Alex needed to learn this, but Cossack would prefer it not be through indoctrination into complete loyalty to the executive board. There was also the fact that Alex had an identity to fall back on, but if people ever connected Alex Rider to Alec Pierre, both sides would have a shit-fit.

* * *

_-C_

_Nile found out and you didn't tell me?_

_-A_

* * *

That was what got Alex's attention? He should have known, the boy was being trained as a spy by the adults - himself excluded. But it was under control and Alex's alias was still safe.

* * *

_-A_

_It is under control and he knows you as Alex Rider, the child. Alec is still safely out of view._

_-C_

* * *

It had better stay that way, too. He didn't think Alex was stupid enough to trust Nile with that, considering his paranoia about that identity.

* * *

_-C_

_Thank you._

_-A_

* * *

It was nice to be sincerely thanked for one's efforts, even if it was an eleven-year-old. Then again, there were things he actually wanted Alex to do. Like staying away from his coworkers and bosses.

* * *

_-A_

_Thank me by staying away from known SCORPIA operatives._

_-C_

* * *

Alex's lips twitched at that. Oh, if only Cossack knew. Besides, it was just so fun to mess with the man's coworkers. Covertly, of course, it wouldn't do to get prematurely stabbed for being nosy. Plus, they deserved it for what they put him and his family through.

* * *

Ian Rider was preparing to lead his part in the assault on the Triads. It was now a black operation, never to see the light of day after it was over. It was going to be a long two days. He set out his body armor. The Australians had wanted a three-squad approach. One from each entrance and another from the top of the building. He would be parachuting in with his squad. Ian had called Crawley and told him not to expect him back for a few days. Ian did the final checks on his guns and then began to get dressed. Solid black, the heavy-duty armor on top and then the knives and guns strapped on. It was rare he participated in these things anymore. Technically, it wasn't his job anymore, but Brooke had insisted and Ian had agreed. Jones would have just agreed with Brooke and his personal feelings toward massacring Triads didn't really amount to much. He had once been a soldier, after all. The parachute on his back felt almost comfortingly familiar. He'd double-checked that too. He took a deep breath and sighed as his pulse began to race in anticipation for the jump and the rest of it. He slid the headset on and exited the room, testing the comms as he entered what passed for a tactical room. Ian knew that he could stop this now. Confess to the murder. But, he wasn't going to. This was for Alex, he reminded himself. They had their revenge and this was the price. Besides, he wanted to see Alex again and high-security prisons didn't allow visits. He toyed with the knife strapped to his thigh before snapping it back into place. The Triads were far from innocent, anyhow.

* * *

Cossack and Nile were preparing for an armed assault on the other base. The Triad's security for the two was nearly identical. They had four combat squads at their disposal. The board had deemed the Triads an apropos target. Cossack suspected it was Yu's influence. After all, the Triads was competition. It would be short, but bloody as far as takeovers went. By the end of the week, the story of ASIS and SCORPIA's vengeance would have spread through the appropriate circles. Cossack would be the sniper for the group and Nile would lead most f the squads on the ground. The snipers and Cossack had all found good places to shoot from. They would take out the guards, escapees, and any stragglers who happened to pass by. The squads, in the meantime, would be on the ground and do the majority of the fighting. Nile watched the blue-eyed man strap body armor on. "Planning on joining in?"

It was rhetorical. "You can never be too careful."

Nile shrugged. He supposed there was a reason Yassen had lived this long. Nile himself was going to be using both guns and his swords, once they got inside. Cossack made a habit of always carrying his knives, handguns, and some poison, just to be safe. He nearly always wore light body armor at the very least. They had to wait for nightfall to get in position. After the sun had set, Yassen began to scale the building he was going to be on top of. He made it up and assembled the rifle that had been left there. It was exactly to his specifications, not that he expected anything less. The other snipers were in place as far as he could tell. The pieces slide together in less than a minute. Yassen watched the ground teams arrive with a sense of detachment. "In position, ready when you are."

Nile voice came in over the comms. "Alright, we're good to go."

Yassen loaded the rifle and looked through the scope. His target was in position. "Beginning assault in three, two, -"

* * *

"One."

Ian Rider jumped into the open air at the signal. He waited for the appropriate altitude before yanking open his chute. There was one guard on the roof, which was fortunate because it was easier to take out one guy and the man didn't have the good sense to occasionally look up. Ian Rider landed in the gravel on the roof behind the man with a faint crunch. The man attempted to turn but was promptly stilled by the knife Ian flung into his throat as he rose to stand up. He was careful to be silent as he put the parachute away and tried to stay back far enough to give his fellow comrades a good landing area. They all landed on target. They gathered at the door on the roof and signaled the other teams in place. Explosives were carefully set up at the entrances. They tried to time the fuses. Boom! Boom! Boom! The three squads entered the building filled with stunned Triads, a few had drawn weapons, but most had frozen at the explosives. The shrapnel had caught a few of them as well. Ian tried desperately not to count the people he downed as he entered, the rest of the squad following him. After a few minutes, the firing died down. "Top entryway clear. Moving in."

Ian habitually counted his shots and was glad he'd brought extra ammunition. They had to clear the top floor and get out before they activated the explosives that would level the building. The next few rooms only had two or three people each, all of whom were promptly shot fatally by whoever entered the room first. After they had cleared the floor, they waited. It was awful. The sounds of gunfire on the other floors reached them and so did the smell of gunpowder and blood. Ian would be glad when this was over and they had blown the places sky-high. The signal finally, finally, came in. "All floors cleared. Set charges now."

Ian gave the signal. "Copy. We move out in fifteen."

The signal was sent back. "Copy that. We're out."

Ian moved quickly through the building and tried to avoid looking at the bodies as much as possible.

* * *

Shots rang out as Nile finished the countdown. The shots were close enough that it would seem like all the outside guards had been taken out simultaneously. Nile was in the building, leading the charge before the bodies hit the ground. The squads made short work of the base and Yassen could honestly say that he had to snipe fewer escapees than he expected. He could hear the sounds of both gunfire and close quarters combat. Nile seemed to be enjoying himself at least. He sighed and then gunned down a casual passerby who had stopped and stared. It was one thing to have it rumored that you took action. It was quite another to sloppily leave witnesses behind, even if you were wanted, terrorists. Cossack felt oddly peaceful on top of a building with a sniper rifle in hand. It was going to be a while before they got done, but the entire building and the people in it would be annihilated.


	37. Resolution

Sometime later, Cossack watched the building go up in flames. As the teams exited the building, the fire seemed to flare up. The vans were at least a block away, but that was not enough to disguise the noise of the final explosion that would level the building and perhaps burn down the block. SCORPIA didn't care about collateral damage. He didn't either. Technically, the entirety of the mission was collateral damage. Yassen was almost certain the Triads had nothing to do with Howell's death. It was too clean and it left too many factions agendas satisfied. Besides, they wouldn't have been stealthy enough to get past Howell's security without being caught on some sort of street camera. The entire thing was far too neat. There were a lot of people who had a reason to see the man dead. The Australians, rivals within SCORPIA, and Ian Rider would all have a reason to execute the man. Alex had known ASH was a traitor. Yassen had dropped enough anvil-sized hints. The problem was that Alex had been chopping up snakes with Nile at the time of the man's murder. Ian Rider and John Crawley, then. Alex had figured out a way to convince them it was Howell. They had investigated and found evidence to agree with Alex - the evidence in the man's house. Then, in their usual rage at the inefficiency of intelligence agencies, they had conspired to murder the man and pin it on the Triads - perhaps using Alex to find a way past the double agent's security. Crawley and Ian Rider would consider the resulting execution of the Triads and collapsed negotiations as a bonus. Ian Rider, however noble and sainted he liked to pretend he was, was really no better than the people he fought. He'd allowed for the deaths of tens and perhaps hundreds of Triads for his own revenge. Yassen would have snorted at the irony if he wasn't furious at the man for starting a firefight and not sending Alex home. If you were going to stir the shit up, you send the kids home. The fucking hypocrite had probably led his own squad while pretending to be as clueless as everybody else about Howell's death. Cossack would have been impressed at the man's guile and sheer ruthlessness under different circumstances. Then again, it was Ian Rider's parenting skills he doubted, not the man's acting abilities.

* * *

Ian Rider got back to a base in complete chaos. "What the hell is going on? Why aren't we prepping for the second wave?"

Brooke came in looking harried. "The SCORPIA motherfuckers got to the other base before we did. The burned the whole fucking block down and killed twenty-two civilians while they were at it. The fucking bastards."

Ian felt his mouth drop open and tried not to feel too guilty about being relieved he wouldn't have to kill more people. "What the fuck? I thought with Howell gone, you didn't have any more possible leaks."

Brooke looked about as furious as he ever got. "Apparently not."

The man was still fuming as Ian left the room. He supposed he would be pissed if he was Brooke, too. At the moment, he was glad he could return to the family drama instead of the intelligence agency drama. It usually didn't result in dead people, at the very least. He sighed as he pulled the gear off and dropped it off at the place he was told to. Ian needed a nap. A very long nap. Then, he would see Alex. He got to the hotel with Alex in bed, surprisingly. Crawley was hovering and looking vaguely guilty. "Not having regrets now, are you John?"

Crawley looked even guiltier if that was possible. "It's not that."

Ian sighed. "You didn't cheat on me, did you?"

Crawley snorted. Please, Ian was the attractive one here. "As if I ever would."

Ian stretched out in the chair he was occupying and resisted a smirk as he felt Crawley's eyes on him. "Good, now why are you hovering guiltily?"

Crawley fidgeted. "Come on, John. Adults communicate in relationships."

Crawley rubbed at his forehead awkwardly. "Well, er...meandminifollowedyouaroundforaday."

Ian mentally congratulated Alex for getting Crawley suckered into using his skills for non-official purposes. "Again and slower."

Crawley sighed. "Alex and I followed you yesterday to make sure nothing untoward happened."

Ian shrugged. Crawley paled. "I'm really sorry, he just turned around and then his eyes got all big and-"

Ian decided to put him out of his misery. Alex really did have the doe-eyed look down pat. "I'm not pissed."

He made a mental note to get Alex ice cream for dinner when they got back.

* * *

Crawley was typing up his report when he decided to check on Mini's new acquaintance. There was just something off about that guy. Who the hell made sex jokes to a clearly underage child? Ian didn't count because well...as much as he liked the man, Crawley knew he wasn't exactly in line with social norms. Neither of them was really fit to take care of a kid if he was honest. Crawley barely knew where to begin and that was before factoring in Mini's weirdness. The same kid who could break into houses and shoot people, but also ate ice cream cake for breakfast. Weren't children supposed to be _simpler_ than adults? If he ever found the psychiatrist who said that, he was going to put a bullet in them. Crawley sighed and decided to check the MI6 wanted list with pictures. A few hours later after he'd run the man through facial recognition Crawley was tempted to throw the computer out the window. They'd gotten a match _with one of Malagosto's graduates._ Because Mini couldn't find a normal-ass adult to converse with to save his life apparently. "Ian get up!"

Ian's eyes snapped open. "I think we found our leak. One of SCORPIA's assassins was near the base."

Ian rubbed his eyes. "And how did you get enough for facial recognition?"

The assassins were better trained than that. "Apparently, Mini felt the need to make a jab about his swords and a restraining order. The man decided to respond to him and turned in the direction of one of ASIS's cameras."

Ian sighed. No wonder Alex had been acting oddly. His life would be so much easier if Alex _actually asked for help when he needed it_. Yeah, he would have sleeping problems too if more of Gregorovich's buddies started showing up in his life. Crawley sighed. "Explains the insomnia."

Ian groaned. "No shit."

Crawley and Ian exchanged a glance. "Alex!"

Alex came in looking adorably sleepy. "What? I swear I didn't do anything but sleep and stalk you with Crawley."

Ian sighed. "You remember that talk we had about _not shielding murdering terrorists_?"

Alex sighed. "Um, yeah."

Ian felt like beating his head against the wall. "Then why didn't you tell us you had another stalker?"

Alex tried to look suitably puzzled. "I thought he was just a little weird. I didn't know what he did for a living."

Total lie, but the two of them seemed to buy it. Crawley wondered if giving himself a concussion was grounds for mandatory counseling. "Right, next time you feel like someone is a little weird, covertly take a bunch of pictures and give them to us."

Alex huffed. "Well, I didn't want to sound paranoid."

Crawley snorted. Alex's creep-dar was about as good as theirs.

* * *

Ian groaned as Alex left the room. Crawley's mouth twisted into a slight smirk. "I swear we should get him checked for some sort of terrorist attracting pheromone."

Ian threw a pillow at him. "It's not funny."

Crawley grinned. "No, it's hilarious. Besides, we can now send the Australians a memo and stop their bitching while rubbing it in their faces."

Ian grinned. "Brooke'll look like he sucked a lemon for weeks."

Crawley snorted. "Decorum. Best send those out now. Jones will want one too."

Ian sighed. "Do you think getting him a Taser is overboard?"

Crawley sighed. "Jack won't be happy. Besides, doesn't he have enough weapons to be brought up on weapons trafficking charges?"

Ian began to pace. "True."

Crawley ran his hands through his hair. "It won't help him if someone from the island comes after him."

Ian sighed. "I know."

Crawley sighed. "Just try Ian. Besides, you have to teach him about the cult and finish his survival lessons."

Ian continued to pace. "Something deadlier than karate?"

Crawley tilted his head slightly to the right. "It's a possibility, but you have to take his size into account. He'd be better off on styles that don't rely on strength."

Ian stopped mid-pace. "That can be arranged."

Crawley sighed. "You'd better keep an eye on the workouts and the like, then. Regular doctor visits, diet, and all. It's really easy to overdo it with kids, you know."

Ian sighed. "Marion knows about this better than I do."

Crawley's lips pursed. "I'm sure she'll be delighted if you ask for her input."

Ian groaned. "I'm worried she'll just up and move in, though."

Crawley sighed. "Can you really blame her, though?"

Ian sighed. He suddenly felt tired.

* * *

Alex Rider was actually planning to get a good night's sleep that night. Instead, he was transported to an all too familiar grey void. "Grim?"

The grey figure was standing behind him and Alex nearly tripped as he turned. "Shortstack. Long time, no see."

Alex sighed. "Why is it a void?"

Grim shrugged. "That's all you short stack."

There was still a house burning in the distance. "Why are we here?"

Grim sighed. "This is where you go instead of nightmares."

Alex began to walk towards the house. "Why?"

Grim walked beside him. "Because it was my original gift and because your nightmares would be difficult to explain, no?"

Alex fingered the scar from the spider web on the back of his hand. "Yeah, they would. Why do I have all of my scars here?"

Grim continues toward the house. "It has to do with how you see yourself. Plus, I'm sure the missions left their mental mark, even if they only really happened in your head so far."

Alex turned to Grim. "They _won't_ happen this time."

Grim chuckled. "And there's the Alex I know. You're at your best when you refuse to give up, I think."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Like I care about the opinion of the sadistic primordial who only brought me back for their own entertainment."

Grim snorted. "I was at first, but it's kind of hard not to root for you, in the end."

Alex grinned. "Getting attached to my sorry mortal ass, are you?"

Grim sucked in a breath. "About that."

Alex resisted the urge to punch the man. "Grim, what the hell is going on?"

Grim huffed. "You won't really ever die. I mean your body will, but not your being. Not a true soul death."

Alex whipped around. "WHAT?!"

Grim sighed. "Relax, short stack, you'll get the nice little family life you wanted. You'll even age naturally for this one."

Alex was pissed. "What do you mean, for this one?!"

Grim sighed. He was hoping the kid was still naive enough not to recognize the pitfalls of soul immortality. "I mean in your next lives, you'll be forever physically twenty-one. Keep in mind you'll probably die before anyone gets suspicious."

Alex was seriously considering punching the man. He didn't even ask first. Besides, what about his family? What about starting his own? "Look on the bright side, short stack, you'll be able to go to any time and any place."

Alex huffed. "Weren't most ancient societies shitholes?"

Grim sighed. "Not the point, besides it's irreversible."

Alex huffed. "I hate you."

Grim looked at him closely. "No, you don't."

Alex sighed. "No, I don't. Good night, Grim."

He would still do anything to save his family.

* * *

General Alexei Sarov was enjoying his letter exchange with the young Alex Rider. Frankly, with the loss of his family, Russian politics were particularly lonely. Then again, they had their uses. Being kept in the loop was one, another was being able to start policies, and a third was the money and connections. Sarov was not a materialist in the traditional sense, but he acknowledged the usefulness of such things. For instance, being able to write up an exchange program in such detail with the requirements such that only half a dozen children in all of Britain could meet them. Of those, only one was a child the British government might risk. After all, Alex Rider was the only one not an heir of nobility. He was certain that the other benefits he added in if they managed to produce a student would guarantee their cooperation. The government wanted to enact the changes anyway, but he had convinced his friends that this was the best way to polish it. There were all kinds of subtle jabs at everything British in said proposed law. There would be even more in the negotiations. Oh dear, you British don't have schools where athletics and four languages are an entrance requirement? Shame on you, neglecting the future of your country. Then again, the government in Russia had a lot more direct power, though it had been reduced since the height of its greatness. Needless to say, his allies in the government were all for the proposal. Plus, exchange programs actually did a lot for relations between countries, just look at the start of the cooperative space programs. The fact that he might get to host the child who looked like his long-dead son was just a happy coincidence. Well, not really, but the British didn't know that. Besides, he did not feel like that _man_ deserved a son (well, adopted nephew). Hadn't there been some sort of horrific gang war in that district of Australia that week? What kind of guardian took their children to crime infested areas? War didn't count. Gangs were just asking for delinquency. His smug satisfaction at the look on the man's face would have nothing to do with it, not at all.

* * *

Alex Rider woke up with a sigh. Ian and Crawley were both sitting by his bed. "What?"

Ian ran his hands through Alex's hair. "I guess you needed that sleep more than we thought."

Crawley looked a little too cheerful. "We get to go home in a few days."

Alex smirked. Crawley rolled his eyes at the facial expression. He decided to cut the Ian-moment off before it began. It was like an HR moment, except worse. "On a more serious note than your oddly perverted pre-teen mind, we really need to get your weird comas checked out."

Alex frowned. He wasn't sure what brain scans would reveal if anything. "I feel fine."

Crawley snorted. "People with brain cancer feel fine until they start bleeding from the nose."

Alex laughed. " _No_ , you're not paranoid _at all_."

Ian shrugged. "We're still getting your brain scanned."

Alex sighed. "As long as it doesn't hurt, I suppose."

Ian suddenly looked a little too cheerful. "So, your martial arts regime is going to get edited very soon."

Alex sighed. He wondered if Ian was a closet sadist. "How soon is soon?"

Ian shrugged. "As soon as your aunt gets back to me with the all the programs we normally use for children."

Alex furrowed his brow. "Aren't there, like, three of them?"

Ian shrugged. "Five and yes."

Alex wondered why there were five. "Why five?"

Ian sighed. "Different styles for different purposes. I'm aiming to make your education more aggressive than mine was initially, hence the refresher. Also, due to blatant sexism in _some_ sects of the family Marion was educated more on raising children, hence the better overall knowledge."

Yeah, Ian, you don't seem biased at all there. Alex knew better than to say that out loud, though. He moved to get out of bed. "Room service? You must have really been worried."

He heard Crawley cough lightly and awkwardly pat his shoulder. Ian just pulled him into a hug. Alex flashed his most charming grin. "Aw, c'mon Crawley, group hug."

The man awkwardly joined in. Alex concluded that Crawley hadn't had a hug in years.

* * *

As soon as Tulip Jones got word of the exchange program, she felt like screaming. If Sarov hadn't targeted trade regulations the government wanted to be appealed for years, she would have been able to tell him to shove it up his ass. Politely, of course. Unfortunately, most people who could afford that level of education for their children were nobility, rich, or government officials. Most of whom wouldn't really want to do said exchange program. Jones sighed. Time to make the rounds. Well, there was one person she knew would qualify, but Ian would go homicidal before the nine months were up. The last thing they needed was a homicidal Ian. Normal Ian was bad enough, thank you. Plus, the minute Alex so much as got a scratch they would be cleaning up what was left of the Kremlin up with ice scrapers. Jones shuddered at the mental images. Right, no Alex. Shame really, it seemed like the sort of thing he would enjoy. She decided to begin the search. Which noble families had extra children, again? Blunt walked in. "Tulip, we have an exchange program."

Jones sighed. It was like the phrase 'Houston we have a problem', except worse. "I'm aware, Alan."

Blunt gives her a dry look. "You think it was Rider?"

Jones felt the urge to roll her eyes. "Which one?"

Blunt snorts. "There's less of a difference than you might think."

Jones looked up. "Alex's recruitment is not a given, besides a few others qualify."

Blunt stepped closer to her desk. "For the program, sure. To take Ian's place, not really."

Jones raised an eyebrow. "He's anti-government, Alan."

Blunt remained expressionless. "Such things can be fixed."

He exited Jones' office.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was about to take his first risk in a very long time. One didn't survive in this business by taking unnecessary risks, after all. Nile was twitching in the corner near him. "If I ask where you are going, will I get stabbed somewhere painful?"

Yassen shrugged. "Yes, Nile."

The man twitched again. "What do you want with the boy?"

Nile knew he was pushing it, but for some reason, it seemed worth it. "It depends."

Nile sighed. Pulling teeth. "He's on your list of candidates, isn't he?"

Yassen strapped his knife on. "Perhaps in the future."

Nile huffed. "Save some for the rest of us."

Yassen smirked. "Find your own child assassins, Nile. Besides, this way I get more peace when I retire."

Nile sighed. "I don't suppose you'd be willing to trade."

Yassen huffed. "I have more money than you. Besides, with two apprentices, nobody will complain."

Nile moaned. "Where did you even find them?"

Cossack raised an eyebrow. "I have special contacts."

Nile groaned. "How much would we have to pay you?"

Gregorovich mentally rolled his eyes. "Their names are not for sale."

Nile snorted. Everything was for sale. "Why not?"

Cossack turned to him. "Because they owe me personally."

Nile froze slightly. "You must be one hell of a loan shark."

Yassen held back his snort at the mental image. "True."

Nile was pacing again. "Can I at least come with you?"

Cossack shrugged. "As your coworker, I should not be encouraging this. You can, if you wish. This will be _my_ conversation by _my_ terms and you will remain in the shadows."

Nile refused to admit he was pouting. "Fine."

He paused. "We won't be telling the board about this, will we?"

Cossack threw his body armor at him. "That goes without saying."

Nile began strapping it on. "Hey, so when he's your apprentice, do I get a go with him in combat training?"

Yassen mentally rolled his eyes. Trust Nile to want a sparring match. Then again, the man was a decent teacher and multiple styles were always good. "I suppose it wouldn't be difficult arrange with your insistence on training others at the island."

Nile followed him out the door.

* * *

Alex walked into a warehouse at dusk. He'd somehow managed to convince Ian and Crawley to let him out by himself. There stood a man in black with ice blue eyes, the innate grace of a dancer, and casually standing in the shade of a tree. They both went inside. "Your friend with the swords is about to make the FBI top ten awards for shittiest human beings."

Yassen sighed. "So, John Crawley has half a wit."

Alex was offended on the man's behalf. "Hey, he's not dumb. He's just better with management."

Yassen's lips twitched. "And what would you call your talent for attracting trouble?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Not my fault, totally a glitch in whatever gives people luck."

Yassen would try to beat sense into him if he thought it would do any good. Alex's eyes involuntarily went towards the flash of metal in the darkness. "Nile should really coat his blades in something not reflective."

Yassen huffed. Ian Rider should stop giving classified information to eleven-year-olds. "Nile doesn't normally have a problem with attracting dangerous people in the street or adopting mutant wolves."

Alex rolled his eyes. "What was I going to do? Let the poor guy starve?"

Yassen mentally hit his head against a wall a few times. "Yes."

Alex looked indignant. "Yes, well I have standards."

Cossack pulled a gun on him. The action was met with a draw and safety off Alex's gun at a speed that would have pleased anyone but him. "Still too slow, but at least you no longer have an issue with the impulse to automatically fire."

Nile thought Yassen was being a hardass, but he had been told to stay quiet or fuck off in Yassen language. He didn't dare disobey. While he technically outranked Gregorovich, the guy was a nasty fucker who wouldn't leave a mark, if it came to that. "I'm pretty sure you took care of that. So why are we meeting in person, here and now of all places?"

Nile was pretty sure the kid had more guts than he did. He wouldn't have dared ask. "We needed a talk."

Alex began to circle, a mirroring effect to Yassen. Nile was resisting the urge to shudder. "About?"

Yassen was about as readable as stone. "Your future."

The kid shrugged. "That doesn't sound ominous at all. Besides, you aren't the only other player in that particular game, just the most obvious."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "The family got involved, then. Not unexpected."

The kid shrugged. "Among others."

The blues eyes flickered with something Nile might have mistaken for fondness. "You really cannot walk down the street without finding trouble."

Alex shrugged. "It has its good points."

Yassen flickered in and out of view. "And the bad."

There was no warning before a knife came soaring in his direction. Only Marion's training had him dodging on instinct.

* * *

Nile felt a jolt when he saw Gregorovich chuck the knife at the kid, who just barely dodged it. "You should keep an eye on the news, Alex."

The kid huffed. "I do."

Yassen removed a knife from its sheath. "Then you know what is coming next."

The kid shrugged. "The Russians made their move."

Gregorovich sent the next one at him. "Then you must know that this is Sarov's move."

The kid shrugged. "I figure Jones will block him."

Yassen retrieved both his knives. "I wouldn't be so sure. After all, it might serve Blunt's purpose to have you sent there."

The kid shrugs. "What's your point?"

They were both in and out of the shadows. Nile was eerily reminded of the footage he'd watched of Hunter and Cossack from over a decade ago. "Russia is a more treacherous place than you can imagine. Tread carefully."

The kid stood firmly. "Are you warning me, threatening me, or offering me help?"

A third knife spun through the air. To everyone's surprise (even the kid's), Alex managed to catch it by the hilt. Yassen resisted a smirk as Alex's eyes widened. "Yes."

Alex huffed. "You're a frustrating bastard, you know that right?"

Yassen was more amused than anything else at this point. "Good night, Alex."

Alex sent the knife in his vague direction (it wouldn't have landed anywhere near him), but Yassen and Nile had both already vanished. "God damn it all to hell."

The knife was still there. It was one of Ross's favorite little toys, the very same double-edged eight-inch blade commando knife he'd once had demonstrated for him on the island in class. Alex looked around, shrugged, and picked the knife up, after disengaging it from the boards that made up the warehouse. It wasn't like SCORPIA didn't have hundreds of them lying around. Alex knew better than to leave evidence. He'd picked the warehouse specifically because it had fuel lying around. He'd come here during his afternoon walk and set up the burn. Alex didn't want to risk anyone finding out who he'd met there. The match lit effortlessly and the effect when it hit the gasoline was instantaneous. The warehouse didn't stand a chance. It was dry, made of wood, and soaked in gasoline. Alex didn't stay to watch it burn. He'd learned his lesson last time.

* * *

The walk home made him feel oddly peaceful. Alex even got back before his specified late night curfew. The goodnight pleasantries to Ian and Crawley were over in less than a minute. It was planning time. Would Blunt really send him to Russia? Alex needed a game plan. Sarov would be easy to have as a guardian in some ways, but not others. Plus, the guy was a fan of corporal punishment, so it wouldn't end well if he got caught willfully disobeying the man. Alex sighed and set to remember what he could about the man. Paranoid. Hated the west with a passion. Sarov had also been a fan of Russian classics, as far as he could tell. Thankfully, Alex had read more of those before and after his death, so they could talk about those if nothing else. For some reason, Sabina had taken to horses before he'd died, so he could actually ride, now. Alex personally disliked it, but it was an improvement. Of his possible guardians, Sarov would likely be the most structured and would treat him the most like a child. Alex was pretty sure the man was still sane, but how sane was the question. A die-hard patriot and cunning general. From the money the man seemed to have, he was also intelligent in politics and business. Alex could easily picture him. The man was rather difficult to forget, after all. Alex knew he still bore a striking and creepy resemblance to the man's dead son, Vladimir. He was sure his knowing Russian was probably a plus in that book as well. Alex had checked out the photos of the monument to the guy's son and had to admit that the kid could have been his twin. He sighed. It would be a nice break and all he would have to do was keep the guy sane enough not to nuke Russia and half of Europe. At the same time, he had plans and his own study schedule and other things he'd prefer not to have interrupted. Then, he got a text from Mandy.

* * *

_-A_

_So a friend of mine has a situation. Any chance you can call me?_

_-M_

* * *

What the hell? He was already up anyway, he supposed. Then again, he had a sinking suspicion about Mandy's lack of reliance on adults. Alex was intrigued. Well, this was how he got himself into trouble. Somehow, he couldn't bring himself to care.

* * *

_-M_

_Sure._

_-A_

* * *

The phone rang once before Mandy picked up. Alex felt a small smile at the corner of his lips. "So, Mandy, what's so urgent that we're both up past our bedtimes?"

Mandy's laugh was a little nervous on her end. "Is anyone listening to our calls?"

Alex laughed. "Probably not, but if you're really that paranoid get a disposable phone and never use it for more than one call and never over a minute, three if it's a special kind."

Mandy sighed. "I need you to fix something for a friend like you fixed things for me."

Alex sighed. "Start at the beginning. What's going on?"

Call him a sucker, but kids didn't deserve to suffer just because they didn't know how to fix their lives and adults couldn't or wouldn't teach them. "So my friend has a pet that's about to get put down and it wasn't her fault. The dog likes to escape and doesn't even bite people. Then, their stupid neighbors have to go and call the police. They don't even get bitten and the dog never touches people's gardens."

Alex sighed and recalled the London leash laws he'd memorized. "Alright. You need at least three people to come and testify that the dog never caused harm. Then take pictures of the proof that your friend tried to stop the dog from escaping to take to court. After that, your friend needs to have a system upgrade to that security. Have the plans done in time for the judge and get it done within a month of the court case. Your friend will probably get off with a warning."

Mandy was rustling around. "Slow down. I need to write this down."

Alex waited until the rustling stopped. "Okay, now just to make sure you seem extra proactive, have your friend plan more walks to cut down on the dog's energy and show it to the judge. No reasonable guy is going to do more than giving a warning."

Mandy sighed. "Thanks, Alex."

Alex shrugged. "The London leash laws aren't that hard to learn."

Mandy laughed softly. "Yeah, but the court case is in three days and none of us had time to look this up. You were my last good bet on someone who would know this stuff and my friend's parents hate the dog won't pay for legal advice or anything."

Alex smiled. "Deep breath, Mandy."

He had a feeling this wouldn't be the last time he heard about this family. "Now, get some sleep and document like crazy in the morning, okay?"

Mandy sighed over the phone. "I miss you too, brat."

Alex grinned. "Whatever, goth girl. Don't smoke too much of whatever it is you're on."

Mandy hung up. Alex was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Ian Rider was reduced to eavesdropping. Like a bloody twelve-year-old. Why was Alex giving legal advice to his friends at what had to be an inconvenient time for everyone? Why did he smell like gasoline after coming back at eleven-thirty at night? Why was he using a knife sharpening kit after using one yesterday? There were only so many times you could sharpen and polish knife. Where did he get that knife, because it wasn't from the basement? "Spying on your poor, poor nephew again, Ian?"

Crawley was tilted against the doorway. "I'm starting to see why he runs off so much. Did you ever consider that constant surveillance irritates the shit out of people, especially children?"

Ian huffed. "He just gets into so much trouble, John, even with my watching him."

Crawley huffed. "He might ditch the house less if you didn't watch his every move while he was in it."

Ian sighed. "I didn't really think of that."

Crawley sighed. "You can't micromanage his life forever, Ian."

Ian ran his hands through his hair. "But what about when he meets wolf mutants or assassins?"

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Most people in the street meet one and are never the wiser. They're all perfectly safe _because_ of that blindness, you know."

Ian snorted. "Until they're not and they become another murder victim in the news."

Crawley sighed. "I realize, but isn't that what all your extracurricular activities are for?"

Ian sighed. "I just feel like it isn't enough, you know. There's so much I don't know about him and what he knows."

Crawley raised an eyebrow. "Gee, Ian, who here routinely assesses agents?"

Ian turned to him. "Aren't those tests classified?"

Crawley shrugged. "I'll just take some extra copies and tell Jones I'm checking them versus effectiveness in the field or something. Besides, it'll still be covered by that OSA for whatever it's worth to Mini. You don't have to do this all on your own, you know."

Ian breathes out. "Get some of the specialty tests from Smithers, too. I can get the practical materials without question."

Crawley shrugged. "Done."

Ian turned toward him. "Oh, and John?"

Crawley breathed out. Damn, he was a sucker for those eyes. "Yes, Ian?"

The man stepped closer. "Thank you."

* * *

The wear and tear of travel was really annoying. It seemed that no matter how much you tried to sleep on airplanes, you never got enough. Alex was predictably cranky after his flight. They had landed shortly before the workday ended as well, so traffic had been an utter nightmare. When they finally parked in the driveway, Alex felt his eye twitch a couple times in irritation. He tapped the vial of venom he'd managed to get past customs. He was going to check on Mandy as soon as he got a free moment. Alex had forgotten how much responsibility having friends was sometimes. Well, his version of friends. You know, the kind who would and could actually help if someone was in trouble. The British and international law was next on his list. As much as he ignored them, sometimes it was helpful to know the stuff in case you had friends who were more inclined to use the legal system, instead of getting around it. It would also be helpful in case Blunt tried any of his usual tricks to get his way in the future. The first thing Alex had learned when he looked up public records was that they were as boring as watching paint dry. The second is that there was a good deal of laws that seemed to exist just because one person had been idiotic enough to do something, not as many as the Americans had, but enough to get irritated. Didn't Jack have a law degree? Alex figured he could at least ask her for help or something. Tom, Jack, and Fenrir were waiting for him. The other surprise was Charles. "Uh, Captain Brandon, what are you doing here?"

The guy raised an eyebrow. "I'm a doctor and former Captain. For God's sake, call me Charles!"

Alex snorted. "I hadn't thought Ian was serious about the brain scan and sleep stuff."

Ian looked between them. He'd asked Jones to find someone decent with a clearance. "You two know each other?"

They looked at him. "We met in a library."

Alex stated. It wasn't actually a lie. "Medical section has some interesting stuff."

Brandon shrugged. "Can't say I disagree. I was catching up on a case study or two."

Ian sighed. He was definitely getting paranoid. There couldn't be that many former army doctors in London, anyway. Brandon and Alex moved through the door. "So did you get through the basic biology yet?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I finished it weeks ago. You got my essays, right?"

Brandon nodded. "Yeah, I was job hunting, though. Sorry I was a bit slow."

Alex shrugged. "It's cool. I read the other first and second year textbooks. I'm halfway through the third year of theory for pre-meds."

Brandon grins wryly. "We'll have you taking the MCAT in no time."

Alex moved past him to unpack his stuff and pet Fenrir.

* * *

Jack turned toward Brandon. "Charles, do you really think it's wise to have him learning all that now?"

Charles shrugged. "Ma'am, I won't tell you how to raise your kids, but with a smart kid like that, if he isn't busy, he'll find some trouble to be busy with. Or more of it, at any rate."

Jack turned red, ever so slightly. "Oh, uh, Alex and Tom aren't mine."

Charles snorted. "May as well be. At any rate, he'll be comfortable in check-up at least."

Charles sat down as everybody ran off to unpack, make dinner, or chat with their friend. He wondered how the kid was mixed up with SIS. The men maybe? The lady in black had been very clear about not to asking him any questions. He wondered if the kid knew who exactly was looking out for him. SIS didn't normally get this involved. It was all weird. This reeked far too much like what happened to his father for it to be in his comfort zone. Then again, all he had to do was be himself. The doctor part of him anyway. The lady hadn't told him, but it was very clear they were also paying for his silence. He wondered why the family didn't seem to go to normal doctors. The medical records for the uncle were redacted. The kid had all his vaccines (plus a few extra), but otherwise didn't have much of a file, except for his hospital visits. They would have normally been markers for abuse if the records hadn't made clear the fact that the kid was nowhere near any of his guardians all the times he disappeared and came back injured. Then again, there was that sketchy reunion in fucking Afghanistan. Brandon had decided to do blood tests for almost every disease and stat under the sun, just to be safe. God knew what the water was like wherever in that shithole the kid had ended up. He hadn't pictured himself doing a clinic and the occasional house visit, but he could work with this. This was already better than coming back with nothing and a murder investigation. He set up the stuff. Surgery was his actual specialty, but he could always get another opinion and he knew how to use most of the equipment. First things first. Standard check-up.

* * *

Alex wondered if there was a reason that he never really saw that many doctors before. Or at least ones that would ask the normal questions. "What do you do for fun?"

Alex shrugged. "Play with Tom or Fenrir. I garden sometimes. I have some reading that isn't strictly educational."

Charles sighed. He had been hoping for something less adult. "What are your sleeping habits like?"

Alex shrugged. "I aim for six to eight hours each day. I know the guidelines say ten, but who the hell actually does that?"

Charles chuckled. Yeah, he knew that feeling. "Try to go for ten. I know stuff gets distracting. Six at the bare minimum."

Alex grinned. "If you ask about my feelings, I'm going to tell you to shove it somewhere unpleasant."

Charles snorted. "Not that kind of doctor, trouble."

Alex let out a small indignant sound. "I'm not that bad."

Charles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure you aren't. It says here you got stabbed in Mexico and shot in Germany."

Alex sighed. "Shrapnel. Besides, it healed nicely in both cases."

Charles sighed. "Stiffness?"

Alex shrugged. "A bit, but I used the exercises the hospital people told me to use, and not anymore."

Charles checked it off his list. "Sounds okay. The scar tissue looks mostly superficial, anyhow."

Brandon moved on. "Nightmares?"

Alex sighed as loudly as he could. "Not very many."

Charles shrugged. "Insomnia?"

Alex wondered whether this was actually standard. "A bit more, but never for more than two night in a row."

Charles did more standard temperature, breathing, blood pressure, and heart rate checks. "You're very fit for your age."

Alex shrugged. "I exercise daily."

Charles sighed. "Eating habits?"

Alex smirked slightly. "Healthy with the occasional cake for breakfast."

Charles made a mental note to stick Ian with a chart for healthy diet and exercise for children of all ages. It was different for adults and some people sucked at keeping their kids fit and inappropriate nutritional ranges. The checks went on for a while and ended with a blood draw. "Do I have to?"

Charles' lips twitched. "Yes."

Alex had a little more muscle built than he was comfortable with anyway.

* * *

When he was finally alone with Tom (and petting Fenrir), Alex pulled out his phone and called Mandy. "So, how'd it go?"

Mandy seemed tired but happy. "Oh, it went great. She and the dog got off with a warning thanks to you. How was Australia?"

Alex smirked. "Full of beaches and sunshine. You'd hate everything except the snake-infested outback, goth girl."

Mandy's laugh was pleasant over the phone. "True, my dear, true. Say, do you want to meet some cooler big kids."

Alex didn't see why not. "Sure, as long as Tom gets to come with me."

Mandy snorted. "Of course. It just wouldn't be the same with the dynamic duo split up. Bring Hale while you're at it and we can have the trio."

Alex got the feeling he was missing something. "Sure. When is this little gathering, oh demon queen?"

Mandy giggled. "Friday night. When else do all of us social rejects have time?"

Alex grinned. "Every night, Mandy. You just want to have a LARP and sound cool."

Mandy gave out a mock gasp of offense. "I'm offended at the implication. Show up at dinner time."

Alex chuckled as he hung up. Tom was looking at him. "Do you still want me around?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Of course, Tom. Why do you ask?"

Tom shrugged. "I dunno. Sometimes I feel like I'm not smart enough or strong enough or cool enough or good enough with older girls, you know."

Alex grabbed his shoulder. "Of course I want you around. As for the rest of it, I care about what you think, not what everybody else says. As for the girls, Tom, you just talk to them like we normally do. They are the same species, after all."

Tom grimaced. "It's like you got all old and wise or something."

Alex laughed at that. He was the last person anyone should take any kind of model or advice from. "Believe me, Tom, half of it is good acting. I got straight hundreds in drama remember?"

Tom grinned. "You made a beautiful girl."

Alex shoved the nearest pillow in Tom's face and began to chase him around the house. "Bullshit!"

Tom laughed as he ran away until the dog tackled him. Fenrir shot a look at Alex. "Good doggy."

Tom groaned. "That is _so_ cheating."

Alex grinned. "Eat your heart out, Tom."

* * *

Nile was running through his report at top speed. Or rather, as fast as he could go while reporting to his bosses. Three seemed to be enjoying his nervousness a little too much. Then again, the man was a known sadist who wrote torture manuals for fun. "Something the matter, Nile?"

Nile sighed. "I think I need a vacation, sir."

Chase's lips twitched. "Gregorovich, we said _don't_ torture our second-in-commands."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "I maintain my innocence."

Three looked vaguely amused. "Seconded, sir. I think we just have personalities that are incompatible in the long term."

Chase sighed. That was the nicest way anybody had put it. He wasn't sure anybody could survive over a few months with Yassen unless their name happened to be Rhea. "You can take the next month after your check-ups. Your next assignment doesn't need to be started for a while anyway."

Nile left. "My apprentice?"

Chase shrugged. "Passed with flying colors of course. The shot on her graduation assignment was a work of art."

Yassen shrugged. "Good. Put her on my list of acceptable coworkers. I suppose I will teach her the rest of the sniping over time."

There were very few snipers that had his skill. It took years to learn. Three cut in. "Very well, we'll try to coordinate schedules."

Yassen exited. "Good day."

Chase sighed. "I wonder sometimes-"

Three cut him off. "Patience, Brendan, besides we both know Gregorovich's personality does not preclude itself to group work."


	38. The Pretty Committee

Friday came faster than Alex would have liked to admit. His studies and plots kept him busy when he wasn't with Tom. The brain scans came up as 'unusual, but perfectly fine'. Whatever the hell that meant. Brandon said it meant his brain seemed to work differently from most people's, but it was nothing to worry about. Alex had shrugged and went back to his studies. Ian was reviewing his schedule with Charles and Marion. In the meantime, it left him to contemplate his plots. Family. Blunt. SCORPIA. Freedom. He checked his weapons and plants almost constantly. An idea struck. He wouldn't always be able to get to the bunker, but maybe MADDOX could get to him. He glanced around him. "MADDOX, can you hear me?"

His second untraceable phone buzzed.

* * *

_Yes._

* * *

"You can hear everyone can't you?" Alex froze at the thought. What if…? He supposed there were areas without electronics at all, but that would leave most of the world open to his purview.

* * *

_Yes and no. I see with a million eyes and listen through a million ears._

* * *

Alex held his breath. "Do you know what happens next?" That would be useful. At the same time, he wasn't sure he wanted that power. He was afraid of what he could do.

* * *

_Sometimes. And then, I can be surprised, sometimes._

* * *

"What about my family? Can you tell me what happened to them? Who were they? What they believe?" It would answer a lot of question that Ian couldn't or wouldn't. That and he wanted more than a few images to remember his parents by. Sue him. He knew next to nothing about his mother and his knowledge of his father was limited.

* * *

_The past is...easy for me. Are you sure you want to know? The files are easy, but reading them is another question._

* * *

Alex considered for a half a second. But there was one thing about him that hadn't changed. That wouldn't change. Even Death couldn't touch it. "I want to know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."

* * *

_Very well. Check your computer in the morning. I recommended starting the philosophy books. It might help you understand their actions better._

* * *

Alex put away his phone in its usual spot and strapped on weapons. He was pretty sure that nobody would attack his gathering tonight, but he never went anywhere without weaponry anymore. Alex felt a grim sort of smile form as he reminisced about a time that packing heat would have made him uncomfortable. Then again, he'd usually carried some sort of pointed metal object as long as he could remember, even if it was just a nail. They came in handy more often than most people thought about. Fenrir brushed up against him. "Hey, boy."

The giant wolf was now officially fully grown. At around five feet in length and over a foot wide, Fenrir cut quite the intimidating figure. Alex assumed he was done growing because his eyes were yellow and he hadn't grown in a few months. The wolf was one of his favorite things on the planet, including people. The massive paws and jaw lent themselves to hunting and digging. The wolf ate a massive amount of meat every week and Alex was glad he'd found a butcher who didn't ask too many questions. Jack had been surprisingly nice about the whole thing. Alex wondered if she wasn't growing fond of the family pet. The wolf was affectionate, although less so than most dogs. He pets Fenrir. "Aw, it's not your fault they made you like this."

The wolf was emitting what passed for the dog version of purring. Alex had to wonder on some level if the wolf obeyed him because it knew on some level that they were the same. "I swear, you love that dog more than me."

Jack was standing in the doorway, her smile belying the comment. Alex grinned. "Dogs are a man's best friend, but there is plenty of snuggles and love to go around, Jack."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Keep your fur-ridden hide away from me unless you shower. Do you know how much fur I clean up?"

Alex grinned. "I love you forever and thank you?"

Jack snorted and tried to look stern, even as her heart melted a little. "You know the drill."

Alex chuckled. Jack sat beside him. "You tanned again."

Alex shrugged. "Great, I'll probably get skin cancer at this rate."

Jack rolled her eyes. "You'll be fine. How was the trip?"

Alex sighed. "Ian's kind of a control freak."

Jack resisted an eye roll. And now he notices. Jack put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "He's as human as the rest of us and he loves you, Alex, just remember that."

Alex sighed and muttered when he thought Jack was out of earshot. "Yeah, I just wish he told me that more sometimes."

He didn't see Jack in the corner or the tears that suddenly formed in her eyes as she walked out of the room. Fenrir's tail wrapped around his leg and he smiled softly.

* * *

Mandy was anxiously pacing the room. She was taking a risk inviting Alex into this group, especially since he didn't officially go to Brooklands and wasn't one of the traditional members. Plus, she was new. Their group stretched back to the founding of Brooklands. It was a secret passed from family member to family member. The school had dozens of areas not for the public. The people in it had secrets they wanted to be handled outside of court and the usual blueblood circles. Hence came the guardians. They were sort of old money, but not obscenely wealthy. It lasted until you turned graduated and then you left school alone to your successors and dealt with the adult version. Basically, they were fixers, but not necessarily just the kind you hired. You had to plead your case. The case had to be approved. You had to keep it and the resolution away from the adults. Their job was to keep the reputation of the school and its inhabitants relatively spotless. The official name was The Commission for School Spirit, but it was invitation only (unlike cheerleading and dance committees). Officially, they were a club of rich kids who occasionally donated to prom. Unofficially, they were the grey justice system of the school and risk-taking club combined. They dealt with everything from rumors (themselves and others) to actual cases that would otherwise result in criminal prosecution, but the kid wanted their justice instead. Revenge was possible in extreme cases. Hale was a traditional member, but he knew the roles. Harris could keep quiet and bring more cases to them. Alex was special and had the skills they looked for. He was probably above their caliber, to be honest, but Mandy wanted him included.

* * *

Alex felt the faintest hint of foreboding the minute he knocked on Amanda Teller's door. James seemed a bit more tense than normal, but Tom was his usual cheerful self. There was something going on here. Mandy opened the door to a group of six teenagers in semi-formal attire. "Come in."

Alex stepped past here. "I feel underdressed all of a sudden."

Mandy smiled softly. "Don't."

The dinner was a formal setting, which had Alex immediately glad for all of the lessons he'd had for this sort of thing. Tom smirked. "Snazzy isn't it."

Alex shrugged. "Actually, in formal circles, a three-course meal is considered somewhat basic. Five or seven would be for a celebration."

Tom and James just looked at him and quickly took the chairs to his right and left. "This is Nigel, Karen, Adrian, Gillian, and Richard."

Nigel was pale and blonde. Alex wondered if he was part albino, and the blue eyes weren't helping him come to a decision. Karen was about average looking, with an oval, soft sort of face and brown hair and eyes. Mandy was more angular. Adrian seemed like the typical blond jock, but his eyes seemed to search the room again and again. Richard seemed to be the nerd of the group, complete with brown eyes, brown hair, thick glasses, and a pocket protector. Gillian didn't strike him immediately as male or female. It was rare that he actually had trouble telling. The sheer androgyny of his/her features was not exactly bad looking. Alex wasn't sure if it was rude to ask. The clothes and face didn't make him lean one way or the other. The body language was the only thing that gave Gillian away as a biological male. Gillian didn't quite have the grace of a woman. "Nice to meet all of you."

The dinner passed with a bit of conversation that Alex filed away for information mining later. Tom looked distinctly uncomfortable when the starter came out. Alex whispered instructions in his ear for the whole meal. Tom sent him more than a few grateful looks. Gillian seemed to notice his staring. "You gonna ask or not?"

Alex shrugged. "It seems rude. I take it you prefer to just be known as Gillian?"

Gillian shrugged. Their voice was neither low nor high. "Yeah, not like it goes one way or the other, thank god. One of the few times my parents had actual sense."

Alex just finished his dessert. He'd met odder people in his last life. James and Tom just sort of shrugged and went along with it. "I take it you didn't call us here just for the dinner."

Gillian half-smiled at him. "You are a sharp one."

Alex grinned. "Well, I do like to think fast."

Mandy sat them all down in the sitting room. It was oddly quiet. "Well, we called you here for more of an alliance type thing."

Alex was interested. People tended to underestimate kids. "You guys are fixers, then?"

Mandy twitched. "Not exactly. We aren't ignoble. We have rules. We stand for justice and secrecy, but above we do actually try to help."

Tom glanced at him. "They're a bit like you, Alex."

Alex considered it. On one hand, he didn't mind helping his former classmates. On the other, he was getting other kids involved. "What are your specialties?"

James shrugged. "Mostly a combination of legal, social skills, and street smarts. They also have weekly classes."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You're in on it?"

James gave a sheepish shrug. "I thought it was just a bedtime story or something."

Mandy looked at them. Tom spoke up. "We'll be able to help people like me, right?"

Nigel spoke up. "That is something of the point."

Gillian was looking hopefully at him. "Fine, but I reserve the right to not get involved."

Gillian's lips twitched. "That is a given."

Alex sighed. He needed all the help he could get. "I accept."

James looked at the other for a solid minute. "As do I."

Alex looked at his oldest friend. He needn't have been worried. "I'm in if Alex is in."

Adrian pulled a book from the shelf, and the entire shelf swung outwards. Alex wondered why he was even surprised. "Keep the secrets from the adults."

Alex almost laughed. "That goes without saying."

* * *

Adrian entered first. "Right, so we've been around since the school got founded."

The place reminded him of Smithers' workshop. "Nigel and I do the devices, but in a year or two you'll know enough to build and repair your own."

Alex couldn't wait. Even if he had more life experience than these guys, devices were still exciting. Gillian handed them a couple of books. Alex looked at the titles. They were about on par with his usual study books, but the language seemed more reader-friendly than most of the college textbooks he'd ended up with. Alex wondered how they kept it all quiet. "You'll notice that all of us got a hundred in drama."

Which was true, now that Alex thought about it. "So what exactly do you guys do?"

Nigel shrugged and turned his pale blue eyes toward Alex. "Lots of things. We try to keep up appearances as much as possible around adults, though. Most people would consider us a combination of vigilantism and just general criminals."

Alex figured these people were right up his alley. "What are we learning tonight?"

Nigel propped open a rather large book. "How much do you know about first aid?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm certified."

James and Tom snort in the background. "Figures. CPR and diving?"

Alex shrugged. "I know the theory."

Ian hadn't taken him on the trip to be a certified diver or had him trained in CPR, yet. The trip had originally occurred when he was twelve. CPR had been only in the last year before the debacle with MI6. Nigel handed him some more books. Mandy snorted. "You should hand him the law books."

Alex choked back a laugh at the utter irony that would be him becoming a legal expert. On second thought… "Yes, please do."

Alex decided that he would at least know the letter of the law, even if he wouldn't necessarily obey it or the spirit of the law. They were up until about midnight before the doorbell rang. "Who is calling at this hour?"

Nigel seemed to be a bit on the conservative side, but Alex figured it was just his parents or an act. People tended to believe you were respectable if you sounded and looked respectable.

* * *

Adrian got the door. It was the school secretary, Ms. Bedfordshire. Alex got up. "Oh, don't stand on my account."

Alex raised his hand as a greeting. "Alex, how nice to see you."

He wondered why the school secretary always seemed to have a soft spot for him. He guessed she still remembered him, then. "Nice to see you, too."

He hadn't forgotten her from the past life either. Alex appreciated adults who were genuinely concerned with helping their charges, even if they got in the way sometimes. "What are you here for?"

The secretary sighed. "I'm afraid I'm having a spot of banking trouble and staying with Ms. Teller until the bank sorts out my account issues. Housing is difficult to find with bank trouble."

Alex decided not to ask if it was a conflict of interest. He actually liked Ms. Bedfordshire. "What are you doing up?"

James flashed her a charming grin. "Sleepover, Ma'am. It is Friday, after all."

Gillian had closed the entrance to the workshop before joining them. The secretary sighed. "Just don't stay up too late."

She ascended the stairs. Alex waited until she'd left. "Isn't that a conflict of interest?"

Mandy shrugged. "Not like anybody is going to say anything; it wouldn't be proper."

Alex's lips twitched. "I suppose not."

* * *

Ian Rider got up early in the morning to pick up his nephew. Crawley said he was being a control freak. Ian preferred the words 'present in Alex's life'. Starbright had just eyed him warily, as though she expected him to start something. He pulled into the driveway without any trouble. The house looked exactly as it was described in the file. Really, those two were just overreacting. Ian knocked on the door, which was answered by a middle-aged woman. "I'm Ian Rider, Alex and Tom's guardian."

The woman eyed him warily. "I'm Amanda's mother, do come in."

Ian detected a definitely frosty edge to her tone. Had he offended her? Ian sighed. Sometimes, he just wasn't good with people. "You know, sleepovers usually last until about ten or noon, right?"

Ian wondered how anyone expected their children to be productive members of society at that rate. He wasn't going to say that out loud - it would be rude. "Not really, actually."

The woman heaved a sigh. "I'll make you breakfast."

Ian mentally sighed. "I've eaten, thank you."

That and the breakfast at these things tended not to be the healthiest. The woman sighed. "Well, I'm not going to wake them at eight in the morning, so you're in for a wait."

Ian sat down in the kitchen. He hadn't really been around at these things, so he didn't really know what was typical. "What do you do?"

Ian thought he was obviously dressed. "Banking."

Mrs. Teller huffed. "I'm not sure how such a nice verbose set of children grew up with you."

Ian sighed. "I had help."

It was the short version of the mess that was his home life at the moment. Mrs. Teller began to get out eggs, bacon, and biscuit dough. Ian internally winced at the calorie count but figured it would be okay just this once. The two of them sat in the sort of awkward silence that usually permeated the air around parent night after the parents had run out of stories to tell about their kids. Ian made a mental note to have Starbright tell him how these things usually went. "How many are you cooking for?"

Mrs. Teller snorted. "Six teenagers and three boys, plus the adults."

From the look she gave him, Ian figured he'd epic failed something from Parenting 101, but couldn't figure out what it was for the life of him.

* * *

Alex got up to the smell of breakfast cooking. It was unusual that he stayed up that late or slept in afterward. It was kind of nice to act like a normal kid for once in his life. He supposed he'd probably be doing it more often, when he was in town, at least. Alex showered and put on his clothes in his usual fifteen minutes or less and then wandered down. Ian was leaning against the staircase. "Morning, Ian."

Why wasn't it Jack? It usually was. Alex didn't mind, exactly; it was just a bit odd. His surprise must have shown because Ian suddenly looked guilty and Mrs. Teller put extra bacon on the plate she was making him and sent Ian a look that could have frozen the sun. "Morning, Mrs. Teller."

She sent him a smile. "Oh, good morning, Alex. You can call me Melissa, you know."

Alex thought it was still a bit weird to call adults by their first name. "It wouldn't feel right. Thank you for breakfast."

The woman pulled out a chair for him. "The others are still asleep, Mrs. Teller."

The woman shrugged. "I figured as much. Are you sure you won't have a nap?"

Alex smiled. "No, I'm afraid I'm up for the day. Your cooking is delicious, by the way. The wonderful smell was charming to wake up to."

Alex might have overdone it a bit. Mrs. Teller blushed a little. "Nice of you to say, dear. You'll be a real hit with the ladies in a few years."

Alex flushed ever so slightly. "Thank you, ma'am."

Ian was looking at him like he was from an alien planet. "You think we could turn on the telly?"

He was trying to emulate other people his age, he really was. Mrs. Teller looked relieved at the reprieve. "Of course, dear."

* * *

The drive home was uncharacteristically quiet. Tom spoke up first. "You didn't hit on her, did you?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Uh, gross. She's married and thirty-something. Plus, I'm eleven."

Tom snorted. "Doesn't stop some."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're a pervert, you know that right?"

Tom grinned. "Aw, but you corrupted me first."

Ian gagged at the mental image. There were some things you did not need to imagine family members doing. "Phrasing, you two."

Alex grinned and mock gasped. "Ian, we were talking about something else that time."

Ian turned onto their street. "You had better have been. Besides, you two have a bedtime that you completely ignored."

Tom huffed. "It was a Friday, man, you should lighten up."

Ian let out a sigh. "I know the days of the week, thank you."

Alex remained silent in the backseat. "Alex, we are meeting in my office when we get home."

Alex sighed and Tom patted his arm sympathetically. For once, Alex was glad Ian was paranoid about car safety because it meant his eyes didn't leave the road. The car door closed with slightly more force than necessary. Tom sauntered into the kitchen first. "Hello, Jack."

Alex let a soft smile appear on his face. "Morning, Jack."

She looked anxious. "Did it go okay? You're back early."

Tom sighed dramatically. "I don't think Ian knows how sleepovers work."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It went fine, Jack. It was pretty fun. Mandy has a gecko."

Alex grinned slightly at her shudder. "That mother of her must have the patience of a saint."

Alex fought a laugh. "Yeah, Mandy wanted a snake, but got talked down to a gecko."

Jack shook her head. "You couldn't pay me to look after one of those."

Fenrir appeared in the room and walked right up to the counter before swatting a plate off the counter and simultaneously catching it and the food in his mouth. "Fenrir!"

The wolf flashed him an innocent look and Alex did his best not to start laughing at Jack's yelp and indignant sputters. "Sorry, it must be his breakfast time."

Jack sighed. "At least the plate isn't broken."

It was promptly placed back on the counter. "There's that."

Alex managed to feed Fenrir and get halfway to Ian's office before he started laughing hysterically. Ian shut the door behind them.

* * *

His uncle was rolling his eyes at him. "It's not that funny."

Alex kept right on laughing as Crawley walked in. "What did I miss?"

Ian rolled his eyes again. "The dog stole a plate."

Crawley huffed. "Oh, come on. That thing is massive enough as it is."

Alex gave Crawley his most innocent look. "He's not that big."

Crawley glared at him. "He's almost six feet long and three feet wide."

The man was totally exaggerating. Besides, his baby wouldn't hurt anybody. Alex sighed. "Fair enough."

His fur ball was adorable, no matter what people said. Fenrir was his baby, his mildly over-sized, wolf-like baby. Alex spotted a massive paw creeping under the door and kept on grinning slightly manically. "Moving on from the oversized family pet."

Alex interjected. "My baby is not over sized."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Give it up, you two."

Ian sighed. "Since when do you know how to charm people?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Since you sent me to school and I learned social skills."

Crawley sighed. "You know…"

Ian interrupted him. "Not my point, but be careful, we don't want anybody asking questions."

Crawley sighed. "He's adjusting your schedule, again."

Alex sighed. "And why, pray tell, is that?"

Ian gave him a look. "You know why. Besides, it won't be all bad?"

Alex made a mental note to divide his time between the two secret societies he was now a part of and do his best not to mix up the stories of the two. At least the one with students had a bunch of secret passages and places in London for him to memorize.

* * *

It was close to Christmas before the exchange program hit the news. It was going to be debated for quite a while by Parliament. Ian, predictably, took issue. "I'm sure it has nothing to do with last year."

Alex thought his uncle looked rather like an impatient panther. The man's assignments had been mostly domestic and had him back within weeks. "And I'm sure it does."

Alex sighed. "Really, Ian, you're being paranoid."

The man continued to pace. Crawley was eyeing them both nervously. "Relax, Crawley, there isn't going to be a knife fight."

The man had lightened up considerably in the past few months. Alex figured it was because the man had been somewhat bored and very lonely before. That and the following procedure and filling out paperwork was boring. Alex wouldn't be trusting him with anything Ian didn't know. While Crawley was calmer, Alex knew he'd spill to Ian the minute he got the man alone. The group with Mandy was surprisingly nice. He'd missed having friends, even if he still had Jack and Tom. That and once they figured out that he was actually good at some things, they let him explain or teach. He'd genuinely enjoyed teaching Tom more Spanish and Mandy more maths. It was nice to be treated as an equal, he supposed. Most of his life these days, he was either below or above someone. Nigel seemed to be hiding something, but since his friends didn't ask too many questions about his skills, Alex didn't ask how they learned theirs. Adrian had helped him with lock-picking and some of his other breaking, entering, and stealing skills. Mandy was almost as knowledgeable as him and Ian about politics. The debates were very much enjoyable. Gillian had offered to teach him to pass as a girl and Alex thought it was kind of fun, if disconcerting. It reminded him of drama class when he'd had to play a girl. Karen and Richard had their own unique brand of sports that was comparable to his in the past life. Both of them knew and made a hobby of parkour. They both looked pretty epic while doing it. They had both kinds of grooved on his silent movement abilities. Something about adding to their styles. Alex was just rather eager to learn it. Tom and James had been just as excited. Jerry seemed to be doing well.

* * *

Ian was looking at him funny. "What?"

A sigh. "I've been trying to get your attention for the past three minutes."

Alex shrugged. "Sorry, I was thinking and zoned out."

Crawley's lips twitched. "Don't hurt yourself."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Oh, fuck you."

Ian shot him a glare. "Language."

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He could get dragged through a war zone and stalked by an assassin, but he couldn't swear? "If you say so."

Ian gave him a look. "What crawled up your ass and died?"

Crawley choked on his water. "Um, Ian, I think we know where the language came from."

Ian sighed. He hadn't meant to snap, but he was frustrated. Alex sighed. "Irony."

This Ian was a lot more relaxed and less formal than he remembered. Then again, they were closer this time. Ian just looked at him, pausing in the middle of yet more pacing. Alex hadn't realized he'd answered aloud. "Irony? What do you mean?"

Alex wondered whether he shouldn't be sleeping more. That was a slip-up. "Nothing much."

Crawley sighed. "You don't talk much."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm the quiet sort."

Ian huffed. "Only around us."

Alex resisted a snort. "Don't take this the wrong way, but how many people have you seen me talk to?"

Ian spent a minute mentally counting. "Okay, I see your point. But what about Jack and Tom and the rest of the lot?"

Alex wondered how he was going to put this. He internally winced and wished he had more tact. "They're better at being talkative."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Well, you definitely didn't apply for that transfer program, right?"

Alex gave him a withering look. "I'm eleven, not stupid."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you're getting enough sleep?"

Alex let out a long sigh and refrained from flipping him off.

* * *

Alex went to Mandy's house on Friday, as usual. The air seemed immediately tenser when he walked in. There was a girl there. Alex figured she couldn't be more than six or seven. Jesus. Great, he was turning into Joe. What kind of trouble could she possibly be in? Alex winced as he remembered some of the shit he'd pulled only a year or two older and decide to reserve judgment. He sat down to the grim looking faces of his new allies. "What's the situation?"

The little girl sat on his lap without warning and looked at him with wide brown eyes. "I like you."

Alex wasn't quite sure how to react. "Um, hello."

He put his arm at her back to make sure she didn't fall. He was a little worried about being near a little kid. They just seemed tiny and fragile and he had absolutely no idea what he was doing. Nigel sighed. "Domestic abuse. I'm positive."

Alex glanced at the kid. "Cover your ears."

The girl shrugged. "Okay."

Alex was resisting getting visibly angry or shouting. "Why the hell aren't the police getting involved, then?"

Mandy made a placating gesture. "Two reasons. One, her brother came to us and asked us not to. Two, her dad has already paid off the police, twice."

Alex sighed. "The mother?"

Gillian tilted her head. "Nice enough, but not going to stand up to the husband any time soon."

Alex made a face. "Job? Pension?"

Nigel pulled out a decently large file. "Minor public servant. She'll get it even if he dies or is injured off duty."

Alex gently shifted the kid onto the couch. She was still covering her ears. "How bad?"

Nigel looked at him. "The kind of shit that gets you the maximum sentence in prison."

Alex sighed and opened the file, weighing his options. Nigel must have been pretty pissed to actually swear. "Alright. I'm in."

Tom was giving him pleading looks. James was looking in between the two of them. Tom spoke up. "I don't think we can adopt."

Alex rubbed his eyes. "Dead or disabled?"

Adrian fixed him with a look. "We aren't assassins."

Tom looked worried. James' eyes were the size of saucers. "You burned Tom's house down."

Alex sighed. "A happy accident."

James' eyes narrowed. "Bullshit, but it's okay. He needed to get out of that house."

Tom huffed. "This is so fucked up."

Alex sighed. "So is the rest of the world."

Mandy griped. "Someone should fix it."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Like who? The corrupt politicians?"

Karen interjected. "This is a meeting about Jessica and Jonathan, not a political debate."

Richard spoke up. "Evidence, I think. There are a few judges who are not corrupt."

Karen sighed. "If he got therapy, he could learn his lesson."

Mandy glared at her nails. "Prison, he'll take it out on the kids."

Tom shrugged. "Prison."

James sighed. "We can try the usual system. I can't endorse non-present parents."

Alex sighed. "Prison."

Sadists never stopped unless they were dead or imprisoned. Nigel's eyes blazed. "Prison. He should burn for his sins."

Adrian pulled out a switchblade. "Prison."

Gillian's eyes hardened. "Prison, for the love of God, he's done enough."

Alex looked at Jessica, her ears still covered, and smiled grimly. Hear no evil, indeed. He led her from the room and gently pulled her hands off her ears. "Jessica, go get your brother and go to your room, please."

Alex sighed and went back to the sitting room. This was going to be a long night. Jonathan came in afterward. Mandy stepped forward. "Will you keep our secrets until the day you die?"

Jonathan swallowed heavily. He couldn't be more than twelve. "Yes."

Mandy stepped aside. "Then we will proceed." Jonathan hesitantly stepped forward. "The fates demand your father's imprisonment or disability. Should he pay this price?"

Jonathan looked torn. He took a solid minute to answer. Alex could hear the clock ticking. "Yes."

Gillian stepped forward. "Then we wish you goodnight. Tomorrow a new dawn will rise."

Jonathan left the room.

* * *

Alex glanced at his allies. "Tonight, then."

If he thought too long, he would hesitate anyway. "Yes."

They went into the dressing room. "Karen, Tom, James, stay behind with the kids."

Adrian was the team leader for this sort of thing. "Nigel and Richard, tech support. Amanda and Gillian, you're the lookout. Alex with me."

Alex instinctively put on the Kevlar the way he'd been taught. Adrian turned to help him and saw that he was already dressed. "Alright. So, weapons?"

Alex gave him a look. "Right. You'll want to switch your knives out, though."

Alex was surprised they actually had smaller blades that fit the current size of his hands. "You could stay behind, you know."

Alex tightened the wrist sheath. "I would still be equally responsible, even if I did nothing, just by the benefit of knowing."

Adrian shrugged. "It might be bloody."

Alex had realized that, thank you. Evidence was rarely pretty. "I know."

The others gave him concerned looks. "Right, then. Let's move out."

Mandy walked over to her parents. "We're going out for a walk and to eat something. We'll order out for the others."

Mrs. Teller gave them a wan smile. "Have fun kids."

The exited the building. Alex felt his pulse beginning to race. They were all wearing clothes that looked reasonably nondescript for the neighborhood. Alex was sure Gillian had memorized his measurements or something. Mandy somehow had gotten clothes for all of them. Adrian drove them to the neighborhood. "You're eighteen?"

Adrian rolled his eyes. "They'll never suspect the dyslexic kid, who failed twice before they figured it out, of plotting, now will they?"

Alex's lips twitched. "Not in the slightest. They might even give you a pass as a sports player for anything short of murder, too."

Adrian snorted. "You're a cynical little shit, you know."

Alex grinned. "Wasn't that the goal here?"

Gillian snorted. "Ah, your innocence was so fleeting, though."

Mandy ruffled his hair. "Good little munchkin."

Alex rolled his eyes. What was it with women and his hair? They all lapsed into silence. Gillian delicately tapped his shoulder. "Are you sure you want to do this?"

Alex touched his knife. "Yes."

* * *

They entered the house and the man's room and waited. The mother wouldn't be back until three in the morning since she worked two shifts at her job. Alex and Adrian examined the man's sitting room. "So, when did you learn to do this?"

The place had already been cleaned. They even tried black lights. The only evidence left was the children and wife, it seemed. The man could claim it was an unknown assailant. Shit. They would have to go for disabling, then. The alibi would be tight. Alex shrugged. "A while ago."

Adrian looked at him. "Need a refresher?"

Alex looked at him. "No need to be insulting."

Adrian sighed. "You don't need to be defensive with us, you know. We get it."

Alex looked at him again. "It will take me awhile to realize that. Trust issues."

Adrian sighed. "Do we need to intervene-"

Alex cut him off. "Absolutely not."

Adrian just looked at him. "Okay."

Alex could tell the man didn't really believe him but was going to let it rest. Alex tested the balance of his knife. He could throw it and spare himself the trouble of sinking it into the man's flesh. It would still need to be removed. Or he could just stab the guy. Alex disliked murdering people and blood in general, but he was determined to do this. For Jessica, the little kid who was still innocent to the darker side of the world they lived on. Alex began to pace. Adrian looked worried. "You really don't have to."

Alex let a flash of rage color his tone. "I want to."

The man was a menace to the society he was supposed to be protecting. At least nobody in SCORPIA put on a white hat and called themselves a saint. The blade in his hand flicked in and out of the sheath. Yassen was going to be so pissed if he figured it out. He prayed Ian never found out.

* * *

The door opened and the knife went into his hand. Adrian echoed him. Though the other boy had the job of injecting a substance that would prevent the man from recognizing them. The man in a suit walked through the doorway and they struck. Alex aimed for tissue he knew he could reach. The man's inner leg. Adrian went for a needle in his neck. There were twin flashes of steel and then the blood came out. It was lucky they were wearing black because there was so much of it. Shit, Alex had failed to account for the movement. The guy had impaled his own artery on Alex's knife. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was going to die; No ambulance would get there in time. The pool rapidly spread as the man gasped out, his breath failing him as his heart stopped from the lack of blood. The man looked at them both. "Why?"

Alex pulled his knife out and more blood came oozing out. It was seeping into the carpet and rapidly spreading. "You cannot do what you did without paying the price."

His shoes were soaked and he wondered about evidence. The man seemed to accept the answer and relaxed into the floor. Alex felt his breath beginning to come in shortened gasps. Adrian grabbed his shoulder. "Easy. You need to take your shoes off now. The socks are special and won't leave any DNA evidence they can use."

Alex followed the instructions almost robotically. The walked out of the house casually. Gillian was giving him concerned looks. Mandy was there. There was a tarp down in the car. It was easy to change out of his clothes. He put on a new, completely identical, set. Adrian sighed. "Burn pit time. We accidentally killed him."

Mandy held him afterward in a tight hug. It was surprisingly nice. Alex barely remembered much from the fire pit. He just watched the flames consume their things. The weapons were sterilized to the point that no evidence that they had ever been used would show up. Alex watched until the last of the fire died out. Gillian put at hand on his shoulder. "Time to go."

He took a deep breath and stepped into the car. The sun had just finished setting. Alex registered them getting food, but not what it was or what it tasted like. Tom walked up to him afterward and he was pulled into a hug. He didn't remember who had explained to the others what happened. He felt tainted. The hug broke whatever dam was inside him and he began to sob. He realized he was still shaking about halfway through it. "Easy, mate, easy."

Alex showered afterward and joined Tom in bed, forgetting he wasn't in his own home for a minute. Tom didn't ask questions and just lay there next to him.

* * *

Alex's sleep was surprisingly nightmare free. He figured it was the fact that Tom was there. They'd been woken by Ian and a smiling Mrs. Teller. "Good morning, boys."

Alex's eyes snapped open and only the fact that Tom was on top of his arm kept him from instinctively drawing his knife. "Morning, Mrs. Teller."

She looked between them and Ian. Tom rubbed his eyes. "Fell asleep to Alex's rant on economics. Works faster than sleeping pills."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It isn't _that_ boring, Tom."

Tom grinned. "Sure, Alex, this is why you need me in your life. You'd have no fun otherwise."

Alex whacked Tom with his convenient extra pillow. "Bullshit that."

Tom grinned. "You even talk like you're nine hundre-oof."

Mrs. Teller was clearly holding back laughter. "Breakfast in ten minutes, you two."

Ian looked puzzled. "But it's-"

Alex didn't get to hear the end of Ian's sentence because Mrs. Teller yanked him out of the room as their pillow fight broke out. Tom lost, resoundingly, and was now death threating him with Jerry. "Me and Jerry will tag team you into the ground."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Jerry and I, and you'll have to wait until he gets back from Naples."

Alex knew for a fact that Jerry was staying in Naples. Tom grinned at Alex's rolled eyes as he sat down. "Oh, but he'll come back. He's a good brother."

Ian was giving them a disapproving look and Mrs. Teller was beaming. "Sure, Tom. Keep telling yourself that."

The others were rolling their eyes. It was a nice day, one of the few sunny ones in London. They got home pretty quickly. "Alex meet me in the basement."

Alex grabbed one of Jack's sandwiches and fed Fenrir.

* * *

Jack was eyeing him concernedly. Alex leaned against the kitchen counter. She was surprised to see actual muscle definition forming on his arms. He hadn't thought that children could build muscle, but then, he did exercise a lot. Especially recently, with Ian's new study schedule. It was kind of hellish, truth be told. Jack watched him eat. "Didn't you just eat?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm usually always hungry."

Jack snorted. Fenrir was eyeing his sandwich longingly. "No, avocados aren't good for you."

The wolf switched to the fruit bowl. "Grapes are bad for you, too."

The dog huffed and let out a little whine. "You're shameless, you know that right?"

The wolf still kept giving him a wide-eyed look and whining and Alex sighed and snapped off a piece of bacon that hadn't touched the avocado. "Shameless, you furry rat."

Jack was shaking with obviously concealed laughter. Crawley was rolling his eyes at the scene. Tom was just shaking his head. "You love the dog more than me."

Alex snorted. "What gave you that idea?"

Tom was pouting, but there was no real hurt behind it. "You share bacon with it and not me."

Alex snorted. "You have your own bacon and poor Fenrir doesn't get any of his own."

Jack gave him a look. "I am not cooking bacon for your dog."

Alex pet the (now appeased) wolf. "Exactly."

Crawley was just shaking his head. Why couldn't it have been a pit bull? A nice, normal pit bull. They made wonderful guard dogs. They also didn't eat people and massive amounts of dodgy meat that came from shady meat shops. I mean, it was probably beef, but with the mob, it was better to just get your meat elsewhere if it was for you. "You don't think it's funny that the thing only eats meat?"

He was trying, he really was. Mini shrugged. "It's his natural diet."

That perfectly innocent expression was such a lie. Although, Mini was technically correct in this case. "If you say so."

Crawley went back to his paperwork after taking his dishes to the sink. Alex washed out the bowl for Fenrir. Blood could stink up a room.

* * *

Alex went into the secret basement without a feeling of apprehension. He was ahead in his studies and was probably ready for whatever Ian threw at him. "So, the family decided to celebrate Christmas together. In Russia."

Alex just looked at him. "Aren't they restricted because of their jobs?"

Ian sighed. "Usually, yes, but they and I are considered basically above suspicion."

Alex sat down. "Why are you telling me down here?"

Ian shrugged. "You read that history book I gave you about the family, right?"

Alex shrugged. That and the files that MADDOX had given him. He'd complete the entire biology pre-med track, too. Technically, he was homeschooled at this point. Online engineering and accounting courses were being helpful, too. Ian was looking at him. " _How is the Russian coming?"_

Alex gave him a look. " _Well."_

Ian gave him a funny look. " _Your dialect is different from mine."_

Alex sighed. " _I learned from online courses and audio, Ian."_

Ian switched back to English. "Yeah, I figured."

Ian was eyeing him suspiciously. His uncle seemed to be weighing his options. "You didn't happen to hear anything about a death in the British government."

Alex sighed. "Four hours after. I'm ninety percent sure it's a vigilante killing."

The lies came almost too easy now. Ian rubbed his eyes. "I'll find a way to pass it to Tulip. And you wonder why we worry. Any chance you'll tell me your sources?"

Alex gave him a look. "Right."

Ian mentally resolved to investigate his nephew, again. There could not be that many unknown criminals in his life. "Alex, are you hacking people?"

Alex mentally swore. "Carefully."

Ian gave him a look. "You better be. If I have to bail you out with law enforcement, I'm grounding you until you're thirty."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Only if I'm caught, huh?"

Ian ruffled his hair. "Of course, you have to have some fun."

Ian was awesome sometimes.


	39. We Wish You a Merry Christmas

The journey to Russia was as long and short as a plane flight. Ian seemed tense about the family reunion happening in winter instead of summer this year. Alex figured it was just that his family decided to screw with Ian. "Why'd you pick, Russia?"

It was a genuine question. He had his theories, but it was always good to ask. Ian's gaze sharpened. "How'd you know it was me?"

Alex shrugged. "A little birdie told me."

Ian rolled his eyes. Alex thought he was being funny. "The vents in the family home did that, more like."

Alex snorted. Ian had seen right through that one. Alex had figured he would. "True."

Ian sighed. "So, we'll mostly be in Moscow and St. Petersburg."

Alex turned to him. "Mostly?"

Ian got them both cranberry juice. "About half our time is getting spent on a farm, too. Getting away from the city can be fun."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "And who owns the farm?"

It was always best to check. You never knew what kind of nutcases lived on farms to avoid people. Ian raised an eyebrow. "You'll see."

Alex sighed. He didn't exactly have great memories involving flying to Russia. Then, again. Ian was taking him to all the major tourist sights, so this could be fun. The two weeks with just the two of them were probably Ian's way of being nice to him because of the family reunion. "Why'd they schedule it so early?"

Alex wanted to hear Ian's opinion. Ian let out a huff. "To make extra sure I'm keeping my word. Plus, Marion wants to make sure the little training regime is working out."

His family really was a bunch of paranoid little shits. Then again, he couldn't really talk. Alex laid back as the plane landed. The customs line was very, very long. Apparently, the Russians had to interview everyone about exactly why they wanted to visit the country. Paranoid fuckers. Not that he blamed them. The Berlin Wall hadn't fallen that long ago and they were a nuclear power. Alex just sighed and resigned himself to boredom.

* * *

The hotel was actually nice. Alex was surprised to find the bathroom was equipped with an actual full bath with jets. Ian was unpacking their bags. Alex had left the textbooks Ian didn't know about at home. He'd finished them and he partially considered this vacation. There was the opportunity to practice his Russian, which was nice. He just had to make sure Sarov didn't hear about the two of them visiting and decide to drop in. Those two would be a very tense mix and that didn't even include the rest of his family. Sarov had a lot of contacts if he remembered correctly. Plus, the Russian was obsessed with him as it was. They did not need another meeting. Ian would explode if he found out that he'd been writing to the general. His relatives would start nosing around as well. He wouldn't put it past Patrick to have the man assassinated preemptively, either. Grandfather was a bit paranoid. Marion delighted in mayhem, destruction, and death. It would be fun to see Jason and Lilly again. Alex stretched out on the bed. He was growing at about the same rate as last time, but it still seemed slow. He supposed he was just used to being sixteen. He reflected grimly that he would nearly be eighteen if he had lived the first time around. Almost an adult and able to vote. He had another two years before he had to worry about Cornwall. It shouldn't be too hard to prevent either Yassen or his uncle from going. Or he could simply remove Sayle before then. It couldn't be that hard. Alex had run circles around the compound before and that was after Yassen had been there to improve security. Admittedly, he'd been caught, but not before achieving his objective. Alex wondered if he shouldn't already. It would take care of his initial problem at least. There was also Greif to consider. It would be less than a year before Gemini's initial stage was in action. Alex was sure the man deserved to die already, even if he had yet to murder more innocent people. He'd seen some of the experiments done in the apartheid and it was enough to make anyone vomit. That man was already a monster and so was Stellenbosch. They were on his list. Howell was dead. Rothman was dead. Razim, he was sure Joe would happily shoot given half the chance. Yu would require some delicacy, maybe Yassen would help, but probably not. Kurst was a menace and had ordered Jack's death in the past life. The rest of the board hadn't done anything and were generally reasonable. As in, they would probably vote against any kind of terrorist plot that would bring the wrath of the intelligence agencies on them. They were still terrible people, don't get him wrong, but they were not the most terrible people.

* * *

Ian was looking at him. Alex raised an eyebrow. "You sure you're alright?"

Alex sighed. "Yes, Ian."

Ian sat next to him on the bed. His uncle tended to ask the question a lot more nowadays. "What were you thinking about?"

Alex rolled over. "Revenge."

Ian gave him a look. "On who? For what?"

Alex smirked. Telling his uncle he was plotting the deaths of just under half of SCORPIA's executive board was not going to end well under any circumstances. "People and things."

Ian drew out his name, like a taffy. "Alex."

Alex sighed. "The people who killed my parents."

It wasn't even untrue. Ian sighed. "Alex."

Ian pulled him close and began running his hands through his hair. "Yes, Ian?"

His uncle held him tighter. "Please don't."

Alex tried to move but found himself trapped. "Why not?"

Ian was breathing against him. Alex was sure it was quicker than Ian's normal breathing. "Those people are more dangerous than you can imagine."

Alex stiffened. He could imagine quite a bit. "They killed my parents."

Ian was pulling him closer. A whisper went into his ear. "They have hundreds of assassins at their disposal."

Alex forced himself to relax. "They killed my parents."

Ian sighed in his ear. "Maybe when you're older, okay?"

Alex leaned in. "Fine."

He forgot he was eleven again sometimes. "Please, Alex, promise me you won't do anything stupid until you're an adult."

Alex heaved a sigh. "Ian."

His uncle turned pleading brown eyes on him. "Fine. I'll try not to."

Ian gave him a rare smile and loosened his hold slightly. Feather-light fingers ran through his hair and along his scalp. Ian was holding him for a long time. "What were they like?"

Alex didn't specify who. He didn't have to. Ian froze slightly. "After dinner, I'll tell you."

* * *

They had room service. Ian seemed to be in one of his rare indulgent moods. He was being clingy, but Alex didn't really mind. The meal was eaten in absolute silence, but it wasn't the awkward tense silence they'd had on other travels; it was a comfortable silence. Alex sat next to Ian on the chair near the fireplace. Ian had gotten it started and the orange-yellow flames flickered brightly over the logs. It was nice and warm. "You said you'd tell me about my parents."

Ian poured himself some scotch from the mini-bar. It was the first time he'd seen Ian openly drink. Alex was rather surprised. "You already know most of how they met and what I knew about your mother. I never really had the chance to get to know her, but she really did love, John. Her family may have disapproved, but they let her marry him. Before they were married, her first marriage had failed, you know. She liked chocolate and strawberries. A really nice woman."

Ian paused and started drinking. "Your dad, well, we grew up together. John was always the star, you know. Top of his class. Popular. Football player. He and I used to pull practical jokes together. We once swapped our teacher's perfume with vinegar."

Ian's eyes were warmed by the memory. The corners of his mouth upturned faintly. He took another sip of scotch. "We joined the army. He was the star of the SAS, you know. We were patriots. I barely passed and my first mission was a disaster. Then it all went to hell."

Alex knew the rest of the story. His grandparents had died and his dad went to prison undercover. "John was everything I wanted in a brother. They didn't tell me at first, you know, what he was actually doing in Italy. I tracked him down and decked him before he explained."

Alex started. Ian looked like he was in pain. His uncle was on his second drink. "You two are so much alike it hurts to look at you sometimes and other times you two are so different..."

Ian finished his second drink and capped the bottle. "Alex… I love you and…I can't lose you."

Ian looked close to tears. "I'm not going anywhere."

Ian pulled him in for another hug. "Don't make promises you can't keep."

Alex pulled away and stood up. "I don't. I love you, too, you know."

Ian let out something between a gasp and a sigh. "Alex…"

Alex sat back down and leaned against Ian. Ian put his arm around Alex and he rested his head on Ian's shoulder. The two were once again sitting in silence as they watched the fire burn and eventually die.

* * *

Ian Rider woke up at the crack of dawn, still sitting by the fireplace with his nephew leaning on him. It was the best night's sleep he'd had in forever, including with Crawley. He'd gone and slept for fourteen hours with Alex. Even if he was stiff. He'd drank in front of Alex. He'd just forgotten his nephew was still eleven until now. Oops. Oh, well. At least he hadn't gotten obscenely drunk. Alex was still dead to the world. Ian pulled the comforter off of Alex's bed. He grabbed a pillow. He put it under Alex's head and then put the comforter on top of him. Alex really did look his age when he was asleep. He was so cute and small and he looked so peaceful and innocent. Ian smiled softly in the morning light. It was nice to be here with just the two of them. He decided to wait to wake Alex up. His nephew probably needed the sleep and they were on vacation. Ian stepped into the bathroom and started the shower up. He was out and dressed in less than fifteen minutes. Ian silently opened the door and shut it behind him. Time to return the favor from Kazakhstan. There was certain to be breakfast right now, especially in an area with a lot of tourists. He figured he could give Alex an actual vacation before they had to meet up with the nutjobs Alex had the misfortune to be related to. Russia was a large place with a good deal of things to see. Ian had seen a few of them, but not in any kind of official or leisure capacity. Going on a Kremlin tour and breaking into the place were two very different activities. Ian knew the relatives were probably going to try to spy on them, as well. They never could resist the urge to try to meddle with his upbringing Alex. Ian looked forward to them trying. Alex would definitely win in the competition against them. They also had a game in mind for the official family reunion in the countryside outside of St. Petersburg. It would be interesting, to say the least. Ian wasn't sure who would win, but it would be interesting.

* * *

Alex woke up to Ian coming in. "How long was I out?"

Ian shrugged. "Seventeen hours."

Alex shot up in bed. "Shit. I'm behind on-"

Ian interjected. "Absolutely nothing. Vacation, remember?"

Ian placed his breakfast on the table. "Here, eat. I got you breakfast."

Alex got up, feeling rather sticky. "Thanks."

He instinctively sniffed himself and was surprised to discover he actually was starting to smell. Oh, joy. Ian looked at him quizzically. "I think I might need deodorant soon."

Ian twitched. "Alright, then. You can have my spares for deodorant and cologne."

Alex resisted a smirk. Trust Ian to have spares. On the other hand, he would smell like Ian. His uncle dropped them both at the foot of his bed. "Thanks."

Ian shrugged it off. "You can get your own if you want."

Alex actually didn't care. "Whatever you have is fine."

Ian looked pleased. "After you shower, we can go see the Red Square and go on the Kremlin tour."

Alex got ready as fast as he could manage. This was going to be nice. He hadn't actually gotten to see the sights the last time he'd visited. They walked out of the hotel and into the street. Ian had gotten them a place on the main shopping street in Moscow, which was close to all of the tourist sights. His uncle held his hand as they walked in the streets. It was a bit of an adjustment, especially because he knew the language. He caught snippets of the conversations as they strolled towards the Red Square. The Cyrillic letters and the rhythm of the conversations were familiar, but definitely had a sense of foreign to it. They walked to the Kremlin. It was impossible to miss with the signs pointing the way. As they got closer, there were all kinds of tours being offered. The roads were full of cars that seemed to be patently disregarding road safety. Alex wasn't sure about Russian road laws, but some people hadn't bothered with seatbelts. It was cold and he'd already donned winter gear, although the main areas seemed to have been cleared of snow. The wind bit at their skin and faces, but the crowd seemed to give off a minimal sort of warmth. Alex could see each breath in the air. It wasn't snowing today, which probably helped a bit. They lined up at the entrance for guided Kremlin tours. Ian had already made a reservation for the two of them, so they wouldn't have to wait in line outside. Alex stared at the stone building and the columns topped in fire at the entrance. Even covered in snow, the place was amazing. The walkways were clear, but the building was covered in glittering white snow. Alex couldn't help staring as the guide took them to all the major points. It was bigger than he'd expected. Then again, most of the 'bank' was underground, so it wasn't fair to compare the two.

* * *

The tour lasted nearly half the day and Alex was ready for lunch by the time they got back to where they could eat again. His personal favorite was the armory. The weapons were just awesome to look at. His favorites were the ceremonial swords. The intricate detail in the hilts, plus the fact that most of them still had an actual blade that could function was definitely interesting. Ian looked at him. "Do you want to eat here or walk for a bit for a sit-down restaurant?"

Alex considered it. "Walk for a bit."

He did want to sit without getting snow all over him. Ian took him to a restaurant on the same street as their hotel. The two of them sat down to a lunch of borscht and pelmeni. It was really good if a bit different from his usual taste pallet. Alex sat back in the chair a bit. "That was nice."

Ian grinned. "I'm glad you liked it."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Seen the Kremlin already, have you?"

Ian's lips twitched. "Oh, yes. Unofficially, of course."

Alex rolled his eyes. Sometimes Ian was just so Cold War. It was a nice change from his normally stiff uncle, so Alex went with it. Ian seemed to be enjoying whatever memory had him so amused. Alex finished off his lunch. He felt pleasantly full. "What next?"

They both got up from the table. Ian smiled. "Why don't we just walk down the street for a bit?"

Alex shrugged. Ian just pointed out various different things that were not done in Britain. Ian never could resist a cultural lesson. Alex enjoyed the walk anyway, even as he took in the details of what Ian was saying. It was nice to just walk around and listen to Ian sometimes.

* * *

The next couple of days, the two of them mostly spent seeing the sights in Moscow. It was a nice change of pace from their usual vacations, which were full of wilderness survival. Alex was mentally old enough to be able to appreciate some of the sights more. Ian knew so much about the art and history of Russia that he could be a tour guide. Alex wondered whether the interest was personal or professional and then felt slightly guilty for wondering. The two of them wandered the city. Alex was fascinated by the newly remodeled subway. It was really spectacular to see. Ian seemed to be enjoying the more sedate pace as well. Alex was sure the missions and arguments with Jack were tiring in more ways than one. Ian was, of course, keeping him away from the seedier parts of town. Alex didn't blame him. With the way trouble seemed to find them, it was probably best to avoid looking for it. The cold was a constant companion the minute they stepped outside. Alex surprised to find out just how penetrative the icy wind was. The snow made moving exhausting when you had to walk through it as well. The two of them continued to see things in the city. The place was massive. They only really went to spots in the inner city, of course. The two of them strolled along the street. "Your cousins are coming today."

Alex was confused. "I thought we weren't meeting them until St. Petersburg."

Ian's lips twitched. "We aren't, but you didn't think they'd resist the chance to try to watch us did you?"

Alex grinned. "Ian, we aren't going to play ditch the relatives, are we?"

Ian laughed as a memory of him and John pranking their sister-in-law came to mind. "Yes, Alex, yes we are."

Ian grabbed his arm and they walked down the road. The shop windows tended to fog with the contrast between the outside and inside temperatures, so it was a challenge to check your surroundings at times. Alex spotted a tell-tale flash of red hair that he was familiar with. It was so on. Lily was going down. Especially after that punch he still needed to pay her back for. Ian raised an eyebrow. "We aren't just going to let them follow us, now are we Alex?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Encouraging the cousin rivalry, Ian, tsk, tsk. You're supposed to be the responsible adult here."

Alex was already forming a snowball. Ian's lips twitched. "All in good fun, Alex, all in good fun."

Alex finished his snowball. "The redhead is Lily, right?"

Ian's smile was slightly feral. "Yep."

Alex did a turn that had him 180 degrees around and threw the snowball perfectly into Lily's face 30 feet in front of him. Ian started laughing about halfway through their run home. It was about a block, but they were trying to avoid his (now angry) cousins. Alex was sure their grins were slightly manic, but he was enjoying himself. Ian was still smirking at dinner time a few hours later. "Want some hot chocolate?"

Ian rarely lets him order the stuff. "Sure."

* * *

Alex was walking down the street with Ian when a thought occurred to him. They had already gotten presents for everyone at home, but not his relatives. "We should probably get Christmas presents, right? I mean we are kind of vacationing on a shopping street, so we don't really have an excuse not to."

Ian looked surprised. "We can if you want to."

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. "I know you don't like them, Ian, but really? It's Christmas."

Ian snorted. "One holiday with that lot behaving is not going to fix my issues with them."

Alex sighed and patted Ian's arm. "It'll be fine, Ian, just humor the poor insane relatives."

Ian snorted. "That's what I'm afraid of. Now, what are you going to get them?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Why, planning on putting tracking devices on it?"

Ian whacked him lightly upside the head. "No, brat, I'm just curious."

Alex's grin was rather shit-eating. "Curiosity killed the cat."

Ian ruffled his hair. "Hypocrite."

Alex retorted. "Bring it, old man."

Ian made a mock angry face. "Old, am I? We'll see who wins the competition the relatives and I have planned."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't you think it's unfair that you adults know about it before we do?"

Ian's eyes danced mischievously. Alex didn't trust that look. "No. I'm sure you'll rise to the challenge."

Alex gave him a look. "Totally win despite your cheating, you mean."

Ian snorted. "You'll never get it out of me."

Alex gave him an innocent look. "Not even in exchange for knowing what everybody is getting for Christmas?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "I can just check the bill."

Alex grinned. "I used cash and burned the receipts back at home and plan to again."

Ian shrugged. "I'll steal the receipts before you do."

Challenge accepted. "You can try."

* * *

After shopping for his relatives and three unsuccessful pickpocketing attempts from Ian later, Alex was tired. He'd ended up getting himself and his cousins' necklaces with a single charm. Jason had a bull. Lily got the flower she was named after. He got himself one with a black phoenix on it, figuring the symbolism was fitting. The chains were gold. Ian got an exploding panther paperweight he'd made himself. Marion got a book on ways the Russian royal court had died. Darian got one on strategy and Patrick got a book on riddles in Russian. Alex returned to the present. He'd ended up in a contest with Ian. His uncle had to wait outside the store and was only allowed to check the receipts, not the bags themselves. Ian was surprisingly easy to foil. Then again, he'd had more practice at pickpocketing than his uncle. Plus, he had thought of a way to foil the man's attempts. After attempt number four, Ian was currently pouting. The man would totally deny it. Alex grinned. "And I win since this is our room. Cheers."

Ian rolled his eyes. "At least I didn't bet anything on this."

Alex grinned. "Is that a gambling problem I hear you having, Ian?"

A pillow hit him in the face. "Shut it, you."

Alex grabbed the pillow and threw it right back. "Don't be a sore loser, Ian."

Alex pulled out the receipts. "Speaking of which."

He pulled out his heavy duty lighter and set them on fire. They burned before they hit the ground. Ian huffed. "That is totally gloating."

Alex snorted. "And you're acting totally fifteen."

Ian shrugged. "You would know, with that company you keep."

Alex rolled his eyes. "They aren't that bad, Ian."

Ian ran a hand through his hair. "No, they definitely don't keep you up late, let you sleep in, mess with your diet, and encourage your unpatriotic sentiments."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Sure, Tulip, if you put it like that."

Ian threw another pillow at him. "I let you hang out with that lot, don't I?"

Alex shrugged. "Reluctantly. Besides, I have fun and it's my night off."

Ian sighed. "They're not my favorite friends, but I'll put up with them for your sake. At least they don't come over."

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Ian didn't exactly know about the secret vigilante part of his friend group. Yassen didn't either. Alex was content to keep them and his bunker as his own secrets. Not to mention Antonio. They hadn't committed any more murders, but they had submitted evidence to the police (mostly anonymously or through the people they helped). Alex could also build more of his own stuff. He almost wanted to get called into the bank to have a talk with Smithers, just to compare ideas and show off a bit. Ian continued to huff and puff about his friends as they went to dinner. Alex just ignored him. He'd heard it all before.

* * *

Brendan Chase had just gotten yet another turn down from Pierre. He found them highly amusing, which was one of the reasons Pierre was still breathing. The others included the fact that the paranoid piece of shit was impossible to find. Nile was clearly nervous about his inability to do more, but Chase figured this was a good chance to teach the man patience. He was convinced the man was mildly insane from years of operations, but otherwise able to do good operational work. He held a grudging respect for the man who seemed to have enough of a spine to tell him, no, but still dance so tantalizingly close to his grip. Chase wondered why he only worked for intelligence agencies. If he bombed a base, he clearly held them in contempt. Or did he need Graves and Stein enough to risk their wrath by bombing them under their nose? Chase had to admire the sheer audacity of the man if that was the case. Was he really that worried about being on a watch list? They weren't that bad. Then again, Pierre didn't have organizational backing. Exclusive client list, too. None of the lower levels seemed to know anything about the guy. Or he just used a different name when dealing with them. Three was more patient than he was. Nile seemed to think the man was amused with his antics involving Pierre, which was why the man was being hands-off. Chase preferred the doctor to his other colleagues. The man may be an interfering twit, but Three could at least back off on queue. Kurst would have sent a kill team already. Yu had the charm of a dead cobra. The others were just as bad. At least Grendel and Kroll had put their foot down at Kurst's poorly disguised grab for power. Trying to induct more board members without their input. Not on his watch. The others had apparently agreed. Plus, the man's candidates had been less than ideal. They had enough members, anyhow. Nile was standing in front of him. "You can go now, Nile. Your new assignment is in Russia. Gregorovich can't go there for a few more years due to the number of clients he served in the past."

Nile left him alone with his thoughts. He just needed one more sample of Pierre's work or maybe two. Then, he'd have a good idea of what the man could do.

* * *

Alex Rider was walking through the street having just successfully pelted his aunt with snow when he spotted Nile. Ian was out getting his set of Christmas presents and Alex had decided to go on a walk. Alex felt a flash of inspiration and began forming a snowball. Ian was going to murder him when he found out. He tried not to grin too manically and threw a snowball at an assassin. He ended up hitting Nile in the dead center of his chest. "What the-"

Alex grinned. "Language. There are kids present."

Nile glared at him. "You don't count."

Alex flashed him a mock-innocent look. "I don't know what you're talking about. Sorry, that snowball was meant for my cousin."

Nile snorted. "Bullshit you don't. What are you doing here?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Ever heard of Christmas vacation?"

Nile rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you seem to get it. And spring vacation. And summer vacation. And fall vacation. And random weeks in the year vacation."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm homeschooled, silly."

Nile raised an eyebrow, trying to channel Yassen. "And where pray tell, is the guardian who is supposedly educating you?"

Alex felt defensive on Ian's behalf. "It's Christmas Eve, so he's getting presents. Two, I'm educated. We can discuss the economic effects of the drug trade in Nicaragua if you really want to."

Nile sighed. He hadn't exactly learned in a conventional school. "Point taken."

The kid was being stubborn again. "What are you doing here? Stalking me again?"

Nile rolled his eyes. He was almost as paranoid as Yassen. "Working. I have to travel a lot, you know."

Alex began to walk away. "You know I could just kill you where you stand."

Alex turned around rolling his eyes. "You could, but then you'd be bored."

The damn kid was right. Nile let the kid walk off. Snowballs were harmless, anyhow. The accuracy and distance were kind of impressive. Nile glanced around to check that nobody was looking before making a snowball and hitting the kid in the back of the head. "Payback."

He said to the kid's shocked face and disappearing into a nearby alley, chuckling. Yassen would probably murder him for talking to the kid without permission, but drug gang negotiations were boring, he was on lunch break, and that was fun.

* * *

Marion Beckett was no slouch. She'd bugged her (admittedly darling) nephew as soon as she'd gotten to Russia. The conversation between him and the man in black had been interesting, to say the least. What would Alex want with a wanted terrorist? Sure, he told the man to get lost, but he didn't really mean it. There were no threats with weapons and he'd sought the man out by throwing a snowball at him. Phish. Boy wonder was in de-ni-al. Not that it was her business. She wondered how long he'd been slipping Ian's leash to visit his friends from the wrong side of the tracks. The very, very wrong side of the tracks. She resisted a giggle at the thought of him going behind Ian's back. He really was precious. Marion relished the idea of sending him to the terrorists after his training was finished. It would serve Ian and his morals right if Alex turned out to be one of the best contract killer and double agent combinations ever. Her poor nephew stuck with Ian Rider as a guardian. Marion would have gone insane at the boredom. The man was absolutely no fun. She was still outraged that it had taken them ten years to be able to see her nephew again. If she'd had her way, Helen would have lived with them after John had started double agent-ing. Alex was a reminder of what her sister should have been. Helen had been rather soft. Kind, sure, but definitely not a person you sent into the family business. The poor woman had not had a good first marriage, either. Then, she'd had to go and marry John-freaking-Rider. Helen's taste in men aside, she had always been such a nice sister. Alex reminded her of Helen sometimes. The way he bit his lip was the same. The nose was, too. His cheekbones were close to her shape as well. Marion remembered the thrill of her knife fight with him. She should have had that with Helen, too. Helen hadn't made it past the first couple of stages of training, so she hadn't been in on any of the family secrets. It was one of the reasons her blood had boiled at the thought of Alex not knowing. She had always wanted to share with Helen, but her father insisted she keep quiet about it. Marion went back to eavesdropping on Alex and Ian.

* * *

On Christmas Day, Alex woke up to his relatives barging into his and Ian's hotel room at six o'clock in the morning. Marion poked him a couple times after he put a pillow over his face and resisted the urge to scream into it. Who woke up at six o'clock in the bleeding morning on vacation? Marion yanked the pillow away from him as Ian and Patrick started openly arguing about appropriate times to barge into hotels rooms early in the morning. Alex blinked. "Marion, one of these days you are going to wake me up and I will stab you. Painfully."

His aunt giggled. "I look forward to it."

Knowing his aunt, she might actually be telling the truth about that. Lilly, Jason, and Darian had stealthed their way into the living room and sat on the couch. "I thought we weren't meeting until St. Petersburg."

Marion huffed. "We decided to come early and track you down."

Alex rolled his eyes. "And you got sick of being pelted with snow."

Marion shoved his head into the nearest pillow. "Brat, you are so paying for that later."

Alex would have responded, but he currently was being smothered in a pillow. There was no real venom behind her words. Alex shoved her off him and off of the bed just to be safe. It might have something to do with his reflexive reaction to being strangled, too. Marion actually fell, to his surprise. "Sorry."

Marion shrugged. "No harm was done. Did Ian started your night exercises up again?"

Ian heard and paused in his bickering with Patrick. "No, Ian did not."

Marion's lips twitched. "You know, referring to yourself in the third person is a sign of impending madness."

Ian's eyes flared. "You know, slicing up your nephew is considered child abuse, right?"

Alex decided to interrupt before those two got into it. "People, decorum."

To his surprise, everybody in the room straightened up and shut up. Well, that was easy. "Alright, now all of you act like you were socialized normally as children, please."

Alex forgot he looked and was supposed to act eleven at that moment. To his surprise, everybody listened to him and quit arguing. "I'm getting dressed. No killing each other. Bye."

Alex stepped into the shower with the clothes he'd laid out the night before.

* * *

Marion looked smugly at Ian. "I told you so."

Darian snorted. "He's not going to say yes because of one thing."

Patrick interjected. "Most other children would have chosen a side."

Ian griped. "Alex has never been most children."

Marion looked at him. "Yes, but I think you like to ignore just how special he is."

Ian was about ready to start arguing again. "You know next to nothing about him."

Marion looked savage. "And whose fault is that?"

Ian grit his teeth. "If you were fit guardians, I wouldn't have kept you away from him."

Marion's eyes flashed. "Right, and remind me again who got accused by child services five times in a row."

Ian glared. "Fuck you. Those were misunderstandings."

Marion drew herself up against him. "Yeah, the housekeepers _misunderstood_ the fact that you left him alone for months on end, I'm sure. Last I checked, neglect is still abuse."

The woman tossed her hair. Patrick looked old and tired. Lilly and Jason were glancing between the two adults. Darian was staunchly ignoring them all. Ian retorted. "Yeah, and I'm pretty sure training children as assassins definitely qualifies as physical and psychological abuse, Marion. Don't get me started."

Patrick decided to intervene. "Children, enough is enough."

They both quieted. Marion looked at her brother. "Oh, no. I'm not getting involved in the accuse-fest."

Patrick sighed. "There are days I think none of us should have had children. I am going out to get groceries. As Alex would say, don't kill each other."

* * *

Nile had also bugged Blondie's family. Hey, the Mossad bitch had the right idea. Blondie got in way too much trouble. First Yassen and now him. Plus, the kid's family were all batshit abusive assholes as far as Nile could tell. The uncle may or may not be included in that. No wonder the kid liked to wander around and avoid the house as much as possible. If that was what he came home to, Nile would have run away years ago. Of course, they didn't seem bad enough that the government would intervene. He was willing to bet that they had enough connections to scare away child services, as well. The cousins seemed okay, but you never could tell. Gramps was a piece of work. Nile was ninety percent sure he could a better job of raising Blondie than they could and he was a contract killer who worked for a terrorist organization. At least his family had been nice and loving before they were brutally murdered in front of him. Nile sighed at the memory. At any rate, he was spying on Blondie. It was kind of fun. I mean his relatives were shitty, but Blondie was never boring at least. _Are you sure you're not a pervert?_ The kid's voice rang in his head. A silent accusation. Well, he wasn't exactly spying on the kid's shower. _You might be one of those creeps who tries to be the kid's friend at first._ Shut up. Great, now he was hearing Blondie in his head. They'd throw him in a looney bin if they found out. No, he was just lonely. Very lonely. There was absolutely nothing wrong with him. _Yeah, and I'm a pink panther._ Well, the kid was being trained for espionage. _It's okay, Nile. Everybody in black ops is a little nuts._ He ignored that comment. Looks like Christmas was getting rolling at the kid's hotel room. Why wasn't it at their house? Nile sighed. He had to finalize the deal with the drug dealers. It was looking to be highly profitable for SCORPIA. _What kind of person works during Christmas?_ Nile resisted the urge to groan. He was just going to ignore his new mental version of pint-sized. And maybe ask his shrink a few questions about 'an acquaintance'. _Sure, like they won't see through that in a heartbeat._ Nile resisted the urge to talk to Blondie in his head. You weren't crazy until you started talking back to the voices in your head, right? Was it his long-dead conscience making an appearance? Meh, he'd just ask for an assassination assignment. That usually fixed his mood right up. Not like they had a shortage of contracts.

* * *

Alex Rider got out of the shower to the kind of awkward silence that made you just want to disappear straight back into the bathroom. "Where is Grandfather?"

Darian answered him. Ian and Marion seemed to be attempting to spontaneously combust each other through glaring. "He went for groceries. Something about not room servicing Christmas dinner."

Alex sighed and sat next to his cousins. "You two alright?"

They both just nodded in silence. "Well, this is awkward."

Lily and Jason were examining him like he was a new kind of insect under a microscope. "What were those two arguing about now?"

Lily shot a look at Jason. "Um, your upbringing."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Figures. Do you guys want to watch the idiot box?"

Lily fidgeted. "We don't know Russian."

Alex shrugged. "I'll translate for you."

He switched the news on. He caught several of the adults giving him amused looks when he gave all the announcers exaggerated accents and added in his own snarky commentary when they paused for breath. Lily and Jason were both sniggering through it by a few minutes in, especially after he started ragging on the all the governments equally. Ian's lips were twisted as he tried not to laugh. His eyes gave him away. Darian and Marion were shaking with suppressed laughter. Alex just finished another comment, when the door opened with a bang. "What are you retards laughing about now?"

Alex got up. "Merry Christmas to you too, Grumps."

The old man raised an eyebrow. " _What_ did you just call _me_?"

Alex grinned. "Damn. I thought we had a few more years before the deafness set in."

The old man glared at him. Alex widened his eyes. " _What_? You're ruining my Christmas cheer."

Patrick snorted. " _Boy_ , not even death threats seem to ruin your cheer any time of the year."

Alex shrugged. "True. Do you want help with that?"

The man looked at him. "Long as you don't blow up the stove."

Alex rolled his eyes after Patrick turned around. "Honestly, the only time I did that was when I was about to be kidnapped."

His grandfather tossed the knife into his chopping board. "Less yacking, more chopping. We want this done before midnight."

Alex wondered if he was related the Sarge as he got started on the first onion.

* * *

Jack Starbright had hosted Christmas for herself, Tom, Jerry, and John Crawley. The presents had been opened and the dinner had been eaten. Her, the dog, and Tom were now sitting outside and staring at the sky. Fenrir whined. "I know, I miss him too."

Tom looked over at her. "Do you think he's alright with his relatives?"

Jack smiled. "Alex is probably just fine."

Tom snorted. "He said his aunt and Ian argue worse than mum and dad."

Jack sighed. There was that. She was also not oblivious to the fact that the first aid kit had needed restocking the first couple of weeks Alex got back from the last family reunion. Ian had seemed perfectly fine, as well. "I'll restock the first aid kit in advance."

Tom glanced at her. "What do you mean?"

Jack sighed. "He was using it the first couple of weeks he got back."

Tom looked alarmed. "For what?"

Jack shrugged. "Whatever it was required a lot of bandages, sterilization, and antibiotic cream."

Tom huffed. "That's bad, Jack. Really bad."

Jack sighed. "It could have been an accident."

Tom looked at her. "Do you really believe that?"

Jack petted Fenrir. "I want to, I think."

Tom sighed. "What do we do?"

Jack shrugged. "Sometimes the only thing you can do. Watch and wait."

Fenrir whined. "It's okay. Alex will be fine."

The dog huffed. Tom snorted bitterly. "Even the dog doesn't believe it, Jack."

Jack carded her other hand through his hair. "Alex is strong."

Tom gave her a look. "But what happens when he isn't strong enough for whatever his crazy relatives do to him?"

Jack glanced at him and the dog. "I guess we pick up the pieces, then."

Tom gave her a look. "The others before me, Tom, they tried. You can ask Alex. I did. It didn't end well for anybody."

Tom sighed. "I can't accept the unacceptable."

Jack ran her hands through her hair. "Look, Tom, Alex needs us."

Tom gave her a look. "I know. Goodnight, Jack."

The dog followed him in. Jack sighed and went in herself. At least Alex had remembered them enough to get gifts. A wonder, considering the amounts of time he and Ian disappeared for. And yet, Alex remembered to call and write and sent gifts and postcards. The way Ian never had. Jack wondered whether it was because of or in spite of that. She sighed and ran her fingers down the angel charm Alex had given her. It was the best present he'd ever given her. A physical reminder that he remembered her. It brought a soft smile to her face. She didn't take it off to shower or sleep.


	40. An Explosive New Year Part One

After a few more days in Moscow, Alex and his relatives ended up taking the overnight train to St. Petersburg. They apparently slept through all one of the wake-up calls and had to literally run out of a moving train. Fortunately, none of them left anything behind, although Marion was uttering some pretty creative Russian swears directed at the train driver. Ian was glaring a hole in her back by the time she was done. Patrick and Darian were rolling their eyes. They all found a restaurant that wasn't open and borrowed their outdoor tables to eat at. Alex bolted his breakfast down in record time and went to brush his teeth. Marion was done shortly after him. He got back from the public restroom as fast as he could manage. Lily was still eating and gave him a bemused look. "Shut up."

She pulled an innocent face that Alex didn't believe for a second. "I didn't say anything."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You were thinking it."

Lily squawked. "What, so now you're the thought police? I thought you believed in freedom of speech and all that rot."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, but I also reserve the right to tell you to be quiet."

Ian's cough interrupted them. "Alright, you two, we actually need to get to the hotel before midnight."

Alex let out a cough that sounded oddly like the word hypocrite before grabbing the trash and walking it over to the nearest trash can. Ian flushed slightly but didn't concede the point. Patrick stood along with the rest of them. "Well, we will see you in the family lodgings in five days' time. Or else."

On that pleasant note, the five of them departed into the crowd. "That pushy old-"

Alex decided to cut Ian off. "Aren't you supposed to be watching your language, Ian?"

His uncle huffed. "He moved the date up, again."

Alex rolled his eyes. Ian's aversion to the extended family was probably not going away anytime soon. The two of them exited the train station, not noticing the pair of dark eyes that followed them.

* * *

Nile was (admittedly) not the best person to lecture people on taking risks, but he knew surveilling the spy family was risky. He hadn't asked for backup or even told anyone where he was going. He'd done well in negotiations and his boss had given him the next few days to himself. Blondie watch it was. Nile was watching the kid and his uncle and had tagged them with a bug he'd taken off an agent he'd killed in the past few months. Chase was the kind of guy who didn't care what you did with your time off. Rothman had been the micromanaging sort. It was a bit of a change, but not an unwelcome one. The uncle's knowledge of Russia was actually kind of impressive. Hey, he had nothing better to do. Getting drunk wasn't an option. He wouldn't touch drugs unless his life depended on it. Nile got the feeling that the presentation was for Blondie's benefit. The nickname was still fixed in his mind for the boy. Plus, the family drama was like watching a real-life mix of action movie and drama. Then a guy who looked like he could be Blondie's father (if Nile didn't know better) walked up to the two of them. He shifted slightly to get a better view. What did a high-ranking Russian want with the spy family? This was way better than TV or Rothman's ghastly parties. Boy Scout (otherwise known as Ian Rider) looked really pissed, as in about to murder the guy on the spot. Trouble in paradise? Well, raising your kid to be your spy partner, but who was counting? Nile wasn't blind. Then again, he wouldn't want any normal kid around him either. Time to tune in. His listening device still hadn't been noticed. Or the kid didn't want to remove it for some reason. Nile wondered about the battery life on the thing but hadn't wanted to risk asking about it. His bosses were the paranoid type. Nile was also pretty new, even for a second-in-command. They didn't exactly have a long lifespan, but Nile figured it was longer than the guy who turned it down.

* * *

"Mr. Rider, such a stunning coincidence to see you here, in my country."

Blondie shifted slightly. Boy Scout still looked furious. "General Sarov, so nice to see you outside of a murder investigation."

Even Nile could tell the man was being sarcastic. The man wasn't the best liar when his temper kicked in. Then again, Sarov had enough power to make their lives considerably more difficult if the man chose to. "Enjoying your family vacation, I hope."

Ian stepped between Blondie and the general. "Quite, General."

Sarov's eyes rested almost completely on Blondie, as though Rider was an afterthought. Nile didn't blame the man. Here he was, listening in from afar. Then again, Sarov wasn't a wanted criminal. "And how have you been liking Russia, young man?"

Alex thanked his lucky stars Sarov was sticking to English. "It's a very beautiful place, if a bit cold."

The general chuckled. "Indeed. I shall be along. The minister is hosting a party and it would be impolitic of me not to attend."

Alex mentally repressed his actual reaction. Ian was pissed enough as it was. Sarov walked off. Alex wondered which minister it was. Or if that part even mattered, since most of the leadership would be going anyway. "Well, shit."

Nile was still staring into his scope. His comment was directed at nobody in particular. So, Blondie knew the paranoid old commie. Figures. Blondie was a trouble magnet. Yassen and he included. Nile sighed as he got a text. It was from his boss. Apparently, Chase wanted him back early. Oh, well. It wasn't like he had a life. Nile cleaned up his gear and shifted some snow over where he'd been sitting. He was willing to bet the spy family had a bullet or two for anyone who dared spy on their precious children. Nile really, really didn't want to have to deal with that. The final piece of equipment went into a case that closed with a snap. He'd better go see what Chase wanted this time. It was always something. Plus, SCORPIA was always expanding and serving clients.

* * *

Alex relaxed after the general was out of sight. He was still the guy who tried to nuke half of Europe in his mind. Ian looked at him funny. "I told you so."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're still paranoid, Ian."

Ian huffed. "I have a reason to be, Mr. Trouble Magnet."

Alex grinned. "Hi, pot, this is kettle. We're both still black."

Ian swatted him with a half-smile on his face. "Brat."

Alex retorted. "Grumpy old man."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "We'll see about that."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I know, I know. It's the dodgy family activity at the shady farm you won't tell me about."

Ian snorted. "It is _not_ that shady."

Alex resisted an eye roll. "Sure, Ian, just keep telling yourself that. You might even believe it yourself one day."

Ian shrugged and pretended his nephew didn't have a point. He'd decided they'd see a one Russian Orthodox Church, the Hermitage, and the Catherine Palace. The Hermitage would take a few days by itself. The place was basically the Russian version of the Louvre. As in extremely massive and with a lot of old stuff inside a palace of a former ruler. The Catherine Palace had the Amber Room. Ian figured they should see at least one church, even if he personally was anti-religion. Ian sighed. Patrick was being a grouch, again. He'd better not try to interfere this summer. Ian was letting Alex pick what they would do. It was new for him - not picking the vacation. Ian had faith Alex wouldn't pick some war-torn shithole, like Somalia. They were walking the streets. It was almost nightfall. The days in St. Petersburg were very short during the winter due to the latitude of the city. Alex sighed. "Sundown already?"

Ian shrugged. "Look on the bright side, it means we can have longer night exercises."

Alex gave the man a look. Ian tried not to chuckle at Alex's sour expression. He was failing. "Sure, laugh it up. Just for that, I'm going to do my best to make sure you're the first one out of whatever game we're playing."

Ian felt his massive competitive streak activate. "Sure, you're on, _nephew dearest_."

Alex finished the snowball he'd been covertly forming. Thud! He'd hit Ian at nearly point-blank range and took off towards the hotel. The lobby was in sight before he felt something cold hit his back. He grinned. Ian was definitely lightening up.

* * *

The next few days were really nice if a bit of a rushed blur. It was the sheer amount of what they were seeing. It really was nice, though. The Hermitage reminded him of the Louvre. Alex had enjoyed the story behind why the place had so many paintings. It was huge and a bit overwhelming. He'd convinced Ian to explore the Egyptian section with him on the second day, though. There was only so much Rembrandt and Matisse even he could take. He might be almost eighteen mentally, but he still had a bit of an obsession with Egyptian artifacts. Hey, they were cool looking. And they had one of the first writing systems. Plus, they had mummies and some of the most complicated funeral rites in history. He remembered most of the polytheistic religion, too. Alex vaguely wondered which religion had gotten the closest to the truth. He'd met Death, after all. The personage (god?man?primordial?) had let slip that Fate existed and others as well. Alex figured he could look into it once he'd finished his other, more pressing tasks. _Leave it alone, Shortstack_. Why? _Some things will draw unpleasant side effects_. How can just knowing something change a person? _I think you know already_. True. _Shortstack, some things...you shouldn't go looking for answers to._ Why not? _There's a reason so many mythologies feature smited curious people, you know. Your minds aren't meant for some things and others...my people don't want others to know._ Why? _Even gods can die, Lexie. Drop it._ Will you tell me after I die? _Maybe. You have to be around for a while to really get some concepts, though._ What is _that_ supposed to mean? _Would you have understood calculus or ethics as a five-year-old_? No. _Exactly. Rest assured, it's not your intelligence I doubt. Your sense of self-preservation on the other hand…_ Shut up, Grim. _Sure, I'll go back to paperwork then. Do you know how many near suicides happen at Christmas?_ Alex rolled his eyes and returned to his staring at the part of an image he recognized as Anubis. How fitting. Ian was looking at him oddly. "What?"

Ian shrugged. "Nothing. You know, if you like it that much we can break in and steal it?"

Alex felt his mouth drop open. "Ian!"

His uncle grinned. "What? It's the Russians, Alex."

Alex snorted. "No. Siberian prison camp is not at all appealing, Ian."

Yassen would kill him, too. Ian shrugged. "Moving on…"

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich had his usual array of Christmas assassinations lined up. Christmas and New Year's tended to bring a lot of grumpy rich people together and usually some of them ended up with enough motive to call him in. Ah, the lives of the rich and famous. True, he was wealthy, but it wasn't like he was in with the old money sort. Yassen didn't really care. Alex was in Russia. He'd rather not have to go back to that shithole anytime soon, or ever really. Rhea was still in school. She had a few lessons she still needed to take. There was only so much you could teach someone on your own. Three was still trying to convince him to stay during the holidays. You really could mistake him for a harmless old school teacher, if you didn't know better. Cossack was personally convinced the man had some sort of odd attachment to the idea of him teaching. Alas, every time he saw a class, he wanted to punch something or someone fatally. He'd been at the edge of his patience with Rhea as it was. It wasn't her fault. Yassen just had a hard time standing human company for any length of time, Alex excluded. Cossack vaguely wondered if Alex was just that charming or it was Hunter's memory. At any rate, he was avoiding Three's invitation by packing his schedule for the holidays. Booked solid for the next three months, oh dear. He was sure Three could live with his repeated turn-downs. The man was entirely too interfering for his tastes and they both knew it. Yassen wondered if it had to do with Rothman's death. She wasn't the most popular of the board members, although Grendel was fond of her. Yassen was of the opinion the man was going senile, but was certainly not going to say so, especially as he was the unofficial head of SCORPIA. In theory, the board members were equal. In practice, it tended to depend. Three had hated her the most, with Kurst being a close second; Yassen suspected a personal vendetta of some sort or politics gone awry. At any rate, he was going to drop the news over the phone on his way to Indonesia. Nice and far away. Three was not the kind of man you disappointed on his territory. Plus, Yassen wouldn't put cooking up an 'urgent assignment' past the Doctor.

* * *

Doctor Three had long ago quit using his real name among his associates. It led to too many complications. Plus, he was no longer like the person he had once been. A new name for a new life. It made sense. Unlike some things. Cossack was still his usual antisocial self. He had originally been a medical doctor, of course. There had been a good deal of drama involved in his job lately. Rothman had never been his favorite college. Grendel had been fond of her, but he'd never understood the appeal. Everybody knew that Kroll would have to be killed eventually. Chase was interesting. He had a good combination of hands-off and hands-on. Three preferred to focus on his research, torture. It tended to unnerve people, but that generally worked to his advantage. There hadn't been a spy through the school since John Rider. A man whose skill he could appreciate, even if he had been a traitor. Three hadn't taken it personally. It was the man's job, after all. Speaking of gifted operatives, Pierre was interesting. The Doctor suspected the analysts' estimation of the man's age was high. Three had read the notes and acknowledged that the man did an excellent job of acting about forty. There was something off about it. Then he'd checked it over again. The taunts were what did it. Forty-year-old operatives were serious, generally speaking. This felt like a young man's taunts. Chase was playful, but not the norm. Three estimated the man's age at (a rather cynical) twenty. Just his suspicions, of course. Pierre excelled at dancing just out of reach. Three wondered what kind of life would lead to a man with that level of skill. He was entertaining, however, whatever his actual age. It was enjoyable to watch him drive Chase into obsession. Strictly speaking, he couldn't begrudge the man the hobby of messing with the man's mind. It was one of his favorite pastimes as well. Chase always reacted. It was rather like poking a beehive or an anthill at times. You might get stung, but the frenzy was entertaining. Alec had a way of sounding functionally insane. Three would be the first to tell you that people who were neurotypical did not usually do well as assassins. Pierre seemed more like someone who had started out fairly normal. Three wondered what had happened. For him, it had been the death of his family that had started him on his path. Revenge changed people, and he was no exception.

* * *

Alex Rider was sad to have to leave the main area of St. Petersburg for the farms in the outskirts. It was a lot colder and there were a lot less people in the area. The place was almost completely white, with the occasional brown trunk of a tree Alex assumed was alive. He'd never seen this much white outside of a hospital in his life. The temperature was at the point that you could easily die of exposure in less than an hour. Alex was surprised to find that freshly fallen snow actually sparkled in the low light and as it hit the ground. It was beautiful, if annoying to trudge through. Ian brought him to a well-lit farmhouse. Alex wondered if the relatives had thought this out. Probably. He missed the part of the lecture where this was beneficial to his health. Alex was pretty sure his face was _actually_ frozen. They stepped inside and the air was so warm it almost burned to stand in after the cold. The fire flickered in the fireplace. The sun was setting, even though it was barely four o'clock in the afternoon. Patrick and the rest were in the living room. "Any later and we would have to send a search party."

Ian huffed. The man looked far too smug for Alex's liking. "Maybe that was intentional."

Alex rolled his eyes and sat down next to his cousins. Let the games begin. Marion interjected. "Maybe you're a piece of shit."

Darian sighed. "Hey kids, let's go see the bedrooms upstairs."

He was shocked the man actually cared enough to intercede. Alex was grateful for the exit.

* * *

The arguing was commencing downstairs. Darian sighed. "We fully stocked them for you three."

Alex shrugged. "They aren't really that interesting."

Darion snorted. "Better than ignoring those three and staring at the wall paint, isn't it?"

Alex frowned. "Have you considered moving out?"

Darian shrugged. "Not really a point. Pops doesn't know the meaning of the word _boundaries,_ anyway."

Alex knew the feeling. The man's lips twitched. "You might find a few things in there to surprise you, anyway. Just take a closer look."

Alex filed into his room with the man. His cousins had opted to settle into their rooms. Alex began to search for hiding spots. Darian was propped against the door. Alex felt himself twitch. "Can I help you?"

Darian shrugged. "You look a lot like your parents."

Alex heaved a sigh. "I thought you didn't meet my father."

Darian raised an eyebrow. "Confession time. I spent the most time with our file on him. I also spied on the wedding across the street."

Alex sat on the bed and found the package wedged between the mattress and the bed frame. "Dude, really?"

Darian shrugged. "Yeah. I thought the hiding place was pretty obvious, too."

Alex resisted the urge to smack the man. "I meant the wedding thing. Why not just go?"

Darian shrugged. "I was banned."

Alex glared at him. "You are a grown-ass adult. Make your own decisions."

His uncle shrugged. "I didn't want to at the time, though. Mostly, I would just never hear the end of it, you know."

Alex opened up the package. "If you want something bad enough, you'll find a way."

Darian shrugged. "Yeah, like you did. Thing is: I'm tired, Alex, really tired. I just want the drama to end, you know."

Alex looked at him. "Don't you cause some of it?"

Darian snorted. "Not really, you might have noticed I usually just keep my mouth shut."

Alex took one look at the package and stared. Knife. Gun. A few other things. Then, there was a set of needles. He promptly threw them at Darian. "I told you, people, already. I. Don't. Torture, People."

Darian had caught them. "You can use them to kill people, too."

Alex raised an eyebrow. Darian twitched. "Fine, fine. Yeah, the primary purpose is torture. You'll have to have your shouting match with Marion after Ian is done."

Alex gave Darian the evil eye. "Or maybe you could grow a spine." Darian stood up and left at that. Alex closed the door. "Honestly."

* * *

Alex finished his search of the room before Marion barged in. "You can take your torture lessons and shove them up your ass."

Marion smirked. "It's nice to see you and a happy new year to you, too."

Alex was not in the mood for mind games. "Fuck you."

His aunt smirked. "You're a bit young for my tastes."

Alex sputtered. "I certainly hope so."

Marion sat on his bed and pulled Alex down with her, into a seated position. "What the hell?"

His aunt flipped her hair. Like they hadn't just started arguing. "Discussion time, Lexi."

Alex stared at her like she'd lost her fucking mind. Well, clearly, she'd done that a long time ago, but nobody had done anything about it. "Are you _on_ drugs?"

Marion snorted. "No. You can tell that from my body language anyway."

Alex snapped. "Oh, my bad, you're _off_ your meds. What the fuck does _discussion time_ have to do with my total refusal to take your torture lessons?"

Marion sighed. "You would find out if you quit interrupting me."

Alex huffed. "Fine. This argument is _not_ over, by the way."

Marion gave him a fond look. Did she _like_ arguing? Alex was fairly certain she was _actually_ psychotic. Oh, well, She couldn't be any worse than the nutjobs he ran into due to MI6. He hoped. Marion shrugged and began her 'story' with a question. "Tell me, Alex, what do you think interrogations is about?"

Alex gave her a look. "Answers. People want answers."

Marion sighed. "Yes, dear, but what do you think it is?"

Alex shrugged. "Torturing people until they give up whatever it is you want to know."

Marion snorted. "And there is lesson one, dear. Interrogations are about breaking down someone's resolve about keeping a secret. In the end, they should have replaced that loyalty with a loyalty to you. You can do that in many ways. If they rely on the fact that they are part of a team, convince them that they have been left behind and forgotten and that their team would kill them rather than rescue them. If they are afraid to die, convince them you have no issue killing them if they do not cooperate fast enough. If they have someone they love more than anything, threaten the loved one or even kill them. You get the idea, Alex. Sometimes, you don't even have to break out a knife. Words might do the trick or you can trick them instead."

Marion paused and saw his expression. "Or we can make this more personalized. Tell me, Alex, how do you think your Nile would do when faced with his fear of heights, hmm? Not too well, I would expect."

Alex froze. She did _not_ just do that. "Nile belongs to SCORPIA. I don't know what you are talking about."

Marion snorted. "We'll save that one for Ian, nephew dearest. Now, would you rather explain to Ian why you've been frolicking around with assassins or cooperate with my lessons, which are going to be entirely theoretical at this stage?"

Alex mentally cursed himself for his stupidity. At the same time, this wasn't any worse than the textbooks that he'd had to read on the island. "Fine. I'll cooperate with your fucking lessons, as long as there isn't any practical work."

Marion's eyes held a triumphant, sinister gleam. "Excellent. Now, we should probably head down for dinner before it gets cold."

Alex suppressed his groan and felt his stomach turn. "Oh, Alex?"

Alex paused. "Yes, Marion?"

His aunt gave him a look. "Ian doesn't get to find out about our lessons until after they get done, got it?"

Alex grit his teeth. So much for that plan. "Fine."

Alex left the tempting, but superfluous, 'you bitch' off. They went down the stairs. "Marion?"

His aunt raised an eyebrow. "Yes, dear?"

Alex almost snorted. She could really go from zero to ten and back in less than a minute. "Who knew about this plan of yours?"

Marion looked at him. "Nobody, dear. Made it as I went along. Patrick and Darian will, I suppose. Your cousins likely heard us through the walls."

Alex actually snorted this time. "Everybody but Ian, then. How typical. I'm starting to see why he doesn't want you around."

Marion's eyes flashed with silent fury. "He had no right to keep you away. We're matrilineal, technically speaking."

Alex had a retort. "Technically, dad's lot is patrilineal."

Marion practically hissed. "All the more reason he should have had our input on your education."

Alex tried not to get involved, he really did. He had enough batshit crazy near him to last a lifetime. "I thought he did now."

Marion's answer was cut off as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

* * *

Patrick and Ian were at the opposite heads of the table. "Come, children, let us eat."

Marion sat to his right and Alex went to Ian's. "Isn't Marion an adult?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "She is my child, no matter her age."

There was a slight hint of affection in the man's voice as he looked at his daughter. Easy to miss, if you weren't looking for it. Ian sighed as the adults looked at him. "I mostly stuck to the history and philosophy."

Patrick cut into his dinner and the rest followed suit. "And his more general education?"

Ian let out a breath. "Alex is studying at a college level and preparing for his GCSEs."

Patrick blinked. "Very well. Combat and the associated arts?"

Ian paused. "Strategy is good. I altered his workouts for an agility based style. Alex should be able to keep up with any exercises or tricks Marion has for him. I'm waiting to start on interrogations until late teens at the earliest. He's passed his level testing in karate. Poisons are more than adequate. Archery and knife-throwing are great. I'll start on some of the extreme sports when he gets more to the point that the equipment will fit him. Alex's shooting is pristine. Sniper training is going to wait a bit. Survival is pristine. Driving is passable. Languages and the college level stuff is ongoing. Alex's stealing is passable."

Patrick considered that for a minute. "Very well. I have no complaints. Darian?"

Darian gave his usual nonchalant shrug. "Kid's ahead."

Marion interjected. "The interrogations should start earlier."

Alex mentally cursed her. Going behind Ian's back, you… Ian snapped. "If you had your way, Mossad, we'd start them on that from the cradle. I said no."

Patrick interjected smoothly. "Children. Studies show active killing or torture before the early teens generally have disastrous effects on the psyche. Even then, we take the utmost care that it is never too soon, but not too late."

That silenced them both for a bit. "That reminds me. Alex, see me after dinner. In private."

Ian protested. "I'm his guardian! I should be there."

Patrick gave Ian a look. "This is a talk from grandfather to grandson. I am not a felon. I refuse to be treated like one. Your status as Alex's guardian can easily change, _Rider_. I. Would. Like. A. Private. Talk. With. My. Grandson. Am I clear?"

Ian placed his fork down with more force than strictly necessary. "Perfectly."

The rest of the meal proceeded in awkward silence. His cousins were staring with wide eyes, glancing between him and the adult drama. Alex mentally sighed. It was like Tom and Jerry all over again. Except with shittier relatives. Mind you, he'd still pull their sorry asses out of trouble, even Marion. Did Yassen have a room free? Because right now, he'd take it.

* * *

Alex walked into the living room after procrastinating with his dessert for fifteen minutes later than the rest of the family. He claimed he was enjoying it (it was delicious), but he was really putting off the inevitable. Patrick was the only one in the room. His grandfather was sitting in the chair. Patrick gestured to the opposite chair. "Close the door and sit down. It is time we had a talk."

Alex closed the door, locked it, and sat down in the chair opposite his grandfather. "Just over a year ago, you killed your first man."

Alex mentally bit back his reply. It was true. _For this life_. "A Mr. Petrov. Terrorist. Wearing a bomb vest and threatening your uncle. You were ten."

Alex sighed as loudly as he could. "I try not to think about it too much, these days."

Patrick let him finish. "Yes, you seem to be suffering a minimum of ill-effects. However, I'm appalled that your uncle did not insist you see a psychotherapist for an assessment at the very least."

Alex gave Patrick a look that questioned his intelligence. "I don't trust anyone MI6 would give me."

His grandfather snorted. "They are second rate, anyhow. I know a few people in the private practice in England."

Alex looked at his grandfather. "I've had a bad experience or two before, you know."

His grandfather ignored that statement. "There is one I believe would suit your needs. Her name is Dr. Belinda Mordant."

Alex vaguely remembered seeing the name somewhere. "Wasn't she the one who almost got murdered by one of her patients and quit her job?"

Patrick smirked. "She'll see you. We just need to plan your approach."

Alex wondered what he'd gotten himself into. "Why can't I just walk into the front door?"

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Well, you need to pique her interest. Here is our file on her. I'm sure you'll think of something suitable."

Alex took the file. "I blame you if something bad happens because of this."

His grandfather chuckled. "I would expect nothing less."

Alex made to get up. "One more thing, Alex."

Alex sat back down. "Yes?"

Patrick sighed. "You may want to wait on the traditional tattoo until you're older."

Alex snorted. "I figured."

He got up and walked out before gramps could think of something else to bring up.

* * *

Ian was hovering outside of the door. "Ian you're paranoid."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Excuse me for being concerned. The last time one of your loony relatives got you alone there was a knife fight and a dead body involved."

Alex snorted. "Patrick is a bit old for knife work."

Ian laughed. "I dare you to say that to his face."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm reckless, Ian, not suicidal. Sorry, you'll have to find another taker."

That would be like telling Yassen he was getting up there in assassin years. Not a good plan. "Plus, they're your relatives, too."

Ian looked offended. "Are not! I'm only the brother-in-law."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Are too. Besides, as long as you have me, you're stuck with them."

Ian groaned and muttered something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like a death threat against his other relatives. Alex grinned. "Don't be like that, Ian. It's not their fault something bad happened to their brain chemistry. It's like blaming people for their depression, Ian."

Ian cuffed him. "Brat, this is serious."

Alex withheld peals of unholy laughter. "So am I, Ian."

Ian's lips were twitching. "I've never heard such an unbelievable pile of shit come out of someone's mouth in my entire life."

Alex smirked. "Is that including or excluding what comes out of yours?"

Ian yelped like he'd been stung. "Alex!"

Alex widened his eyes and gave Ian his best innocent look. "It's my job."

Alex kept the charade up. "Sure, and mine is irritating the ever living crap out of you."

Ian retorted, his eyes shining with tears of laughter. "No, you have to wait until the teen years for that."

Alex smirked. "Well, this is warm-up, Ian. If you can't take the heat now, what are you going to do when the fire comes?"

Ian smirked. "Throw a glass of water on it."

Alex laughed. "At least we'll both know how I get my showers, then."

Ian sputtered. "Alex!"

Alex just snorted. Lily walked in. "Marion says we're starting early tomorrow."

Alex sighed and mentally prepared himself to sleep with his knife and lock picking set. At this rate, he should get one surgically implanted. "Alright. I'm heading up, then."

Alex waved a goodnight to Ian before following Lily up.

* * *

Alex was sorely tempted to text Yassen but knew the house was probably crawling with surveillance cameras. They could be his relatives. They could be from other people. Alex had no idea whether this belonged to anyone considered worth watching by the Russian intelligence services. He didn't believe the separate rooms were anything more than the illusion of privacy. Especially in his family. Not to mention, they all had or used to have employers that would keep a watch on them. Right now would have been a great time for one of Smithers' inventions. They had all been brilliant. As much as he hated the missions, he couldn't help but lovingly remember the devices (cough, the bike, cough) that probably wouldn't exist unless he built them. They had been custom made for him alone, after all. The man had even gone against Blunt to try to give him some kind of defensive devices. Alex stared out the window. The stars hadn't been this clear in a while. The cities tended to have so much light pollution that you could barely see the brightest ones at all. The moon was clear and bright. Alex decided to check his clothes. Ian had drilled the habit into him. There were two bugs, so he wasn't being a paranoid nutjob. One was Marion's (he'd accidentally found her bug collection at the last family reunion). Nosy little- Alex sighed. He couldn't really talk. The other looked like a slightly larger version of the ones he knew were used by intelligence agencies. He crushed them both. Marion and whoever else it was would have to take it up with him. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

Nile started up his (totally not creepy) Blondie watch equipment a few days after Christmas. The bug had quit transmitting a day ago. Darn, he'd thought it would last longer. Or maybe Blondie had found and destroyed it. _No,_ Nile _, you're not obsessing at all._ Damn it, he was not hearing Blondie in his head. Also, the bug had been blocked for a few hours before it stopped transmitting. Darn. He'd probably missed the interesting stuff. Chase walked in on him. "Something you want to tell me, Nile?"

Nile sighed. "Mr. Chase. I've been taking a leaf out of Cossack's book."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Find anyone interesting?"

Nile sighed. "Sort of. I'm trying for something pretty specific, you know."

Chase chuckled. "Oh, I know. If we include Rhea, there are only three known child assassins in the world."

Chase sat down next to him. "Let me know if you want help. Keeping an eye out for potential recruits is part of every senior operative's job. I'd hate to lose out."

Nile gave a mental sigh of relief. Rothman would have had kittens. "You've got time, too. You are still very young."

Chase rested a hand on his shoulder. It took almost everything he had not to flinch away. "It took Gregorovich almost fifteen years to pick someone. Don't be too discouraged."

Nile was almost amused that his boss was trying to be comforting. If Nile didn't know better, he'd be almost reassured. "Thinking of Pierre, sir?"

Chase removed the hand. "That man, I swear, I've never met anyone like the slippery snarky piece of shit."

Chase was smiling almost manically. "You don't sound terribly upset, sir."

Chase actually laughed. "Oh, I'm not. He's terribly amusing, you know. Plus, he's playing with us. I almost look forward to the day we have him surrounded."

Nile was curious. "Do you think we would send him to the island?"

Chase tilted his head to the side. "It would depend. Besides, I have a funny feeling that most of it would be redundant. Plus, he'd have as much to teach us as we would him."

Chase seemed to be in one of his rare talkative moods. "Did the board ever go through the island?"

It slipped out before he could stop himself. Chase didn't seem offended. Which was good. Offending a board member was a very fatal enterprise. The rumors surrounding them were distinctly sinister. "Oh, no. But we designed the original lesson plans and found the teachers. We added RTI later on, after Yassen's time there. Otherwise, not much has changed, you know. The first few years were a bit dicey, but once we got a system working, we didn't mess with it. We do update the textbooks and have a lot more extended reading nowadays, though."

Nile shrugged. "What was it like?"

Chase chuckled. "Chaotic. The original founding of SCORPIA. We also had actual competitors, not just upstart Triads. Tons of work, too. I'm sure you figured that out, though. Most of us ended up losing our families to intelligence agencies and vice versa before we worked out arrangements with them."

Nile wasn't sure what to say. Sorry, you lost your family? "It's a lot more stable than it was before. SCORPIA, that is."

Chase went silent after that. Nile wasn't sure whether it counted as a dismissal or not. "Do you want me to go, sir?"

Chase started a bit. He doubted the man actually forgot he was there. "Yeah. Good night, Nile."

Nile got up. "Good night, Mr. Chase."

He closed the door and left his boss alone in the living room. What an odd encounter. Then again, Chase was rumored to be one of the nicer members of the board, if a bit paranoid.

* * *

Alex got up to the awkward silence that had pervaded the house from dinner the night before. He felt the dread curdling the milk in his stomach. Marion looked the same as ever. Albeit, a bit more excited. Alex was honestly unsure how anyone could ever like that stuff, but it wasn't like he was in the position to have a verbal sparring match with her. His aunt had the upper hand. Marion looked a little too cheerful. Alex wondered what he'd missed in his bargaining yesterday. Marion looked way too happy to just accept she'd blackmailed him into reading a textbook and paying attention in a theory class. Alex sat down in the basement, along with his aunt and cousins. He was getting the feeling that owning up throwing a snowball at Nile would be easier than this. Ian would throw a shit fit and ground him, though. He also had enough abandonment issues that he was worried Ian might decide he was too much trouble and leave him with his other relatives. Alex knew it was highly unlikely, but it was still a fear. "What on Earth are you so happy about?"

It was downright suspicious, really. His aunt looked at him funny. "Am I not allowed to enjoy teaching my children life skills?"

Alex hadn't quite seen it like that, he supposed. Most of the manic enjoyment of teaching one's subject had come from the SCORPIA side of things, to be honest. Alex shrugged. "Fair enough."

Marion practically sashayed in front of the class and proved to Alex that there was no way his family genetics were normal. No one should be that happy teaching a class at six thirty in the morning. "Good morning, children."

Alex muttered under his breath. "Speak for yourself."

He didn't quite have the guts to call her out the way Ian did. Marion sent a death glare his way. Talk about bipolar… "As I was saying, today we will be learning about the art and science of…"

Alex was paying attention to the lecture only half-heartedly. He still had hold-ups on the whole torture thing. You know, like most normal, moral people brought up in a stable home environment. Marion seemed to be going over the history of torture. Alex knew most of it already, as one of his English teachers (in the past life) had been a little too fascinated with how 'deviants' were punished in history. You'd think it would be a terrorist school, but, no, it was a plain old English class. They even had fun little pictures drawn based on the Salem Witch Trials etc. for their viewing pleasure. Vomit. Well, not really, but everyone had looked a little green.

* * *

The room was quiet. It took Alex to realize Marion had probably asked him a question. He glanced at the board. The last thing she'd written was about said witch trials. "People confessed falsely because they wanted to avoid the pain of any more torture."

Marion rolled her eyes. "You're quite right, but I was telling you we were breaking for lunch, Alex."

Alex mentally face-palmed. "Actually, stay after."

She told Jason and Lily to leave in German. "You know I know German, right?"

Marion snorted. "Yes, dear. Your cousins need the practice."

Alex sat back in his chair. "Tell me, is this boring you?"

Alex flushed a little. "Err. No."

Marion arched her brow. "Then why can't you seem to pay attention?"

Alex sighed. "I've got a lot on my mind."

Marion snorted. "Your terrorist friend is fine. The general will stay away from here. The house has a reputation. What trouble could your friends at home run into without your help, hmm?"

Alex decided reassurance was not one of Marion's strong points. "You're not helping and you don't know the half of it."

Marion smirked. "Worried about Ian? He can take care of himself."

Alex gave her an eviscerating look. "I'm going to take that with a grain of salt because you and Ian routinely wish death on each other."

Marion huffed. "Not really the point I'm trying to make, sweetie."

Alex sighed. "I know most of it anyway."

Marion shrugged. "Doesn't hurt to pay attention. Besides, your other mentor might not have the same emphasis, per say."

Alex snorted. "I'm still denying any knowledge of such a person."

Marion grinned. Alex thought she resembled the shark he'd killed. "I'm still not believing you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'll pay attention."

Marion ruffled his hair. "Good. It's not too bad anyway since Patrick vetoed the live demonstration. A shame."

Alex muttered under his breath. "Yeah, you might have to teach semi-appropriate lessons for once."

Marion didn't seem to register his sarcasm. They both ascended the stairs in silence.

* * *

Alex decided the awkward silence was awful about halfway through the lunch. It was Darian's turn to teach them after lunch. Alex wondered what the man had for them. His other uncle struck Alex as rather timid in a way. "What have we got today?"

His uncle shrugged. "Blending in a civilian environment."

Alex stared at the man. "You know I have normal people friends, right?"

Darian smirked. "Fine, then you can help out with all the scenario acting, then."

Did Alex say timid? He meant passive-aggressive as shit. "Okay, first thing, voluntelling people to do stuff is the height of assholery."

Darian smirked. "So is telling the teacher you know all their class content, now sit."

Alex flipped off his maternal uncle as he silently sat down. "Now, children that is a classic example of antisocial behavior."

Alex grinned. Challenge accepted, asshole. "And that is a classic example of the general public's ability to arbitrarily assign medical diagnoses based on their own internal biases and no external expert medical advice."

Darian sighed. "You, dear nephew, are a brat, you know that, right?"

Alex felt his grin widen. "Yep."

Darian sighed. "Are you going to let me teach my class now?"

Alex smirked slightly. "Alright then."

Darian gave him the evil eye. "Right...Now, socially acceptable topics include the weather, sports, school, your cover job, and other subjects, like politics, under certain circumstances… They do NOT include explosives outside of news stories, murderous urges, sexual fetishes, illegal acts of any kind…"

Alex wondered whether they added explosives in just for his benefit. Alex sighed. "You in the back, how do I open a bank account?"

Alex had actually opened two. One in his past life and one in the current one. "The totally legal kind or the _totally legal_ kind?"

Darian snorts with laughter. "The legal kind, sugarplum. We already covered money launderers before the reunion."

Alex smirked. "Well, uncle _dearest_ , it involves going to a bank, registering with your actual ID, and then setting a password and pin, you also get a temporary bank card before your real one arrives in the mail."

Darian huffed. "Okay, you should also ask about minimum deposits, wire transfers, interest rates, etcetera."

Lily looked at Alex. "Wait, why do you know that?"

Alex shrugged. "Reasons."

Jason looked over at him. "Like what?"

Alex shrugged. "Stuff and things."

Darian snorted. "Descriptive, Prince Charming."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Must have read it somewhere."

Lily grinned. "Pretty good, but you still have tells. Cut your eyes right next time."

Alex groaned. "I hate you all."

Darian shrugged. "It'll pass. Class dismissed."

Darian yanked him back into the room as he tried to exit. Alex hated having that much less upper body strength. "Secret dodgy bank account, huh?"

Alex tried to get out of the grip. "Fuck you."

Darian grinned. "Nah. I'm giving you a hard time. It's practically a family tradition."

Alex relaxed a little. "So how long have you had it?"

Alex sighed. "Almost a year and a half."

Darian yelped. "Nooo. You beat the record for keeping it a secret."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Why, was it yours?"

Darian was pouting. "Yeah, I only got a few months, though."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Only a few?"

Darian huffed. "This side of the family is as nosy as shit."

Alex smirked. "I hadn't noticed at all."


	41. An Explosive New Year Part 2

At least they were staying indoors. Alex could safely say he hated survival in sub-zero environments as much as he hated being stuck in a desert. Why couldn't people put their evil bases in nice, populated areas with mild climates? Probably because every neighborhood had that nosy neighbor from hell, who was only helpful in the event you were not committing the crime in said neighborhood. He sighed as he remembered that one lady who'd somehow heard of Ian's death and came before the funeral. Then he remembered the vicar and the funeral director. He forced his mind back into the present. "Useless."

Patrick, who was currently supervising their computer lessons that Alex was pretending to be new to, asked. "What is?"

Alex shrugged. "My current line of thought."

The icon on his computer told them both that he was into the fake system they were pretending to hack. "You seem to have done well." Alex rolled his eyes. "Perhaps you should have more faith in your abilities, no?"

Alex snorted. "I don't think one fake computer is a life-shattering event."

Patrick gave him an odd look. "No, Alex that is a start."

His grandfather glanced at the clock. "Time is up, children." Alex stretched his hands out. "Alex, stay behind."

They both heard Ian stomping around. "Ian is rather possessive, isn't he?"

Alex burst out laughing. For a solid minute and a half. His grandfather studied him and then slapped him lightly. "Sorry."

Patrick's smile seemed slightly bitter. "Quite alright. I deal with the family, remember."

Alex vaguely recalled something from Ian's lore lessons. Technically, he wasn't supposed to know or ask this, but he didn't care. "You're not just the head of this family, are you?"

Patrick seemed proud for a moment. "Perhaps. Perhaps not."

Alex snorted and realized he was sore from laughing too much. The man suddenly drew a knife on him. Alex froze. His grandfather put the knife away. "You didn't freeze before. Alex, has something happened?"

Alex at the moment was desperately trying to avoid a complete flashback to his accidental killing a few months ago. "I didn't mean too."

Perhaps Patrick was punishing him for his slip. It had just happened so fast after he was startled. "I don't think you did, Alex. What happened?"

Alex felt himself nearly begin crying. "I was breaking into a man's home. To get evidence. It was awful. The things he did to his wife and kids. He came back before he was supposed to and I just… reacted."

Patrick slowly hugged him. Alex felt mortified that he was actually crying over the stupid abusive sod. He realized he'd been sobbing for a while before he calmed down, automatically beginning to shut down his emotional reactions. A glass of water appeared on the sink next to him after he finished washing his face off. Patrick laid a hand lightly on his shoulder. "Sorry about that." His grandfather whacked him upside the head. "What was that for?"

Patrick shrugged. "Apologizing. You have feelings just like the rest of us. Nothing to be ashamed of."

Alex looked at him. "Did you ever-"

His grandfather finished his question. "Accidentally kill someone? Yes. Does it get any better? No. Why do you think self-control is so highly valued?"

Alex looked at the man. "A story for another time, perhaps. I can help you school your reactions in private. Perhaps it was for the best the man died, anyhow."

Alex looked at him in horror. "Why would you _say_ that?"

Patrick looked at him. "For one, he was, as you say, not very nice. Plus, we do not want you to have a record, now do we?"

Alex gave him a look. "I am not a nice man, Alex. You need to realize that, but I do care for you a great deal, just like I cared for your mother."

Alex sighed. "Even if she didn't pass the tests and married the wrong people twice?"

Patrick smiled slightly. "Even then, child. I love all my children. It was awful, the day she died. Like the light left the world."

Alex didn't know what to say. "I haven't even seen their graves."

His grandfather's eyes flashed dangerously. "Then visit them when you return. I would punch Ian Rider for that if I didn't know it would upset you further. Take your Jack and Tom with you. They will be more understanding, yes?"

Alex sighed. Jack and Tom would come. "Alright, then."

Patrick sighed. "Mordant is in the know. Visit her, Alex, I mean it."

Alex rolled his eyes but felt better somehow. "Yes, Gramps."

Interfering old bastard. Strangely, he didn't mind this nearly as much as Ian's version of 'light' interference. Mainly because Patrick was giving suggestions, not trying to run his life. "Now, brat, it's dinner time."

Alex felt his grin slide onto his face. "And wipe that shit-eating smirk off your face. People might get the wrong idea."

Well, grumpy gramps was back to his normal hard-ass self. "See you at the table in three minutes, Grumps."

He ran out of the room before Patrick could whack him upside the head.

* * *

Everybody else was at the table. "What took you so long?"

Ian and Marion asked simultaneously and then glared at each other. "A private matter between my grandson and I."

Marion and Ian seemed to have some sort of forced psychic connection today. "And what would that be about?"

Alex bit back his chuckle as they glared at each other. Patrick sat down. "That would be between Alex and me unless he chooses to share the topic of discussion and any details with you. He and I will be having private lessons in the usual break block."

Marion and Ian both opened their mouths to protest. "That is _final_. Sit and eat."

Alex can see how his grandfather made a formidable foe at that moment. For a second there, he thought there might be violence. Then, both his aunt and his uncle shut their mouths and sat down. Then, they turned their gaze on him. There must have been something in his expression because Patrick glared them both down. "You will _not_ pester, cajole, or coerce Alex either. If I find out you have, you will be _very_ sorry."

Alex went very still. This was the general, not Patrick. He felt a faint stab of envy. Darn, what he wouldn't give to be able to make people back off like that, especially Ian and Marion. They were the two pushiest people he'd met on the planet. Well, minus Chase, but he'd didn't count because Alex was avoiding the man like the plague. And succeeding. Back to the present. Marion was full out pouting and Ian looked as though he was considering which spot would be the best to shoot Patrick in. Ian grabbed him after dinner and pulled him into the bedroom. "He didn't do anything, did he?"

Alex wondered what had Ian this paranoid. "Uh, no Ian, we literally just talked. He's pretty nice once you get to know him, actually."

Ian snorted. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Alex sighed. "Don't be a dick, Ian." Ian froze as he flashed back to John telling him the same thing. John's voice echoed along with Alex's. "It's usually key to getting along."

Ian resisted the urge to flinch. "Ian, are you okay?"

Ian sent a fond smile Alex's way. "Yes, Alex, I'm just fine."

Never better, in fact. Ian felt a certain warmth in his chest. Ignoring the guilt that came with it was almost a second nature. The expression that was halfway between concern and exasperation was so _John._ Ian suddenly hugged his nephew. Alex looked perplexed but went along with it. He ran his hands through the softer hair of his nephew. "Ian, are you sure you're alright?"

Ian held Alex to him, but let go when Alex pulled back. "Yes. I'm fine, Alex."

_Yes, John, I'm fine. Don't worry about me, for God's sake. You're the one undercover after all._ The soft smile was all Helen. He remembered it from the times he'd visited, especially when John was there. Ian pushed back the memories to focus on the present. It felt like he'd been stabbed in the chest, only to find out the blade was coated in acid and now it was slowly burning through his heart. He managed his typical smirk and sent Alex up to bed.

* * *

Darian was hovering. "He doesn't know does he?"

Ian whirled on the man. "Know what?"

Darian smirked at the question. "You could almost mistake him for Johnny, reborn into life."

Ian felt a flash of rage. "You're not fit to speak _his_ name."

He was practically hissing. "And you are?"

Ian punched the man. "At least I had the guts to go to the wedding, not to mention the funeral."

Darian let out a wheeze. "Jesus, man. Your parents were dead! You could do what you wanted!"

Ian snorted. "At the time of the funeral, yes. I openly went to the wedding against their wishes."

Darian laughed just as bitterly. "Yeah, well, some of us aren't that stubborn."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Or maybe, you're a coward."

Darian's fist slammed into the wall near his shoulder as Ian instinctively dodged. "Fuck you. You have no idea what was going on."

Ian dropped into a fighting stance. "No, but what I do know is that I was the only one not hiding my care behind tradition. You know what, I don't regret siding with my brother for a minute."

Darian mirrored him. "You're one to talk of regret. You can't even bear to speak their names or acknowledge that they are dead."

Ian sent a strike at the man's head that was dodged. "What kind of person doesn't take an orphan to his parents' graves?"

Darian's strike toward his rib cage was blocked. He was going to bruise. Ian threw another punch. "The kind who would spare him the grief."

Darian laughed. "He feels it anyway, newsflash, jackass."

Ian deflected the next strike. "You don't think your half-assed guardianship is any kind of replacement, do you?"

Ian's next strike is hard enough to kill. Darian smirked. "Touchy, aren't we? By the way, you should have let us join in for the game of 'kill the traitor'. Alex should have at least gotten in one stab, don't you think?"

Darian aimed for his neck. "Or maybe you're saving that for later? Make his first official kill an executive board member? Ambitious."

Ian's swipe dented the drywall. It was a feint. He'd pulled Darian on to the ground with his hands around the man's throat in a flash. "Do your worst."

They were interrupted. "Actually, please don't."

Alex. Shit. "Ian, please."

Ian got off Darian as fast as he'd pinned the man. Darian got up rubbing his throat. "Darian, just don't. Please, leave."

To Ian's surprise, the man actually obeyed. "Ian."

He felt flush. "Sorry, Alex."

He was sorry Alex had to see him do that, at any rate. Ian wasn't particularly remorseful about the attempted strangling of his brother-in-law. The amused exasperation he got was practically a cue to flashback to John. "No, you're not."

Ian rubbed his scalp awkwardly. "Remind me what you say about throwing the first punch, pot."

Ian sighed. "I just-"

Alex interrupted him. "Will not attempt to strangle the in-laws, however attractive it might seem."

Ian flexed his hand. "I can't promise that."

Alex gave him a look. "Ian."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Alex."

Alex glared at him. "Look, I know the whole killing thing is a sensitive topic, but don't let Daridork provoke you."

Ian's lips twitched. "Can I call him that?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm going to bed. Wake me up when you guys have matured back to your actual ages."

Ian sighed and watched Alex walk off. Darn, he knew he should have just gone for the neck breaking approach. Oh, well. Time to go to bed. He could always plot the deaths of the in-laws later.

* * *

Alex got up the next morning feeling a lot better than he had for the past few months. He took a few minutes to savor what little sun there was and his good mood. Going down to breakfast would definitely spoil it, with the way his relatives acted. He appreciated the warmth that the house and the sun on his skin provided. The snow glittered with the rays of the sun. It was almost blindingly white. For once, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky. The blue was at the edge of the glorious orange-yellow sunrise. Fenrir would love it here. Tons of snow to play in. The thought of the mutant wolf and his golden-yellow eyes brought a smile to his face. Not focusing on the near fratricide last night or the angst-fest in the afternoon, lah dee dah. The flash of irritation he felt at his relatives came back when Ian came barging into his room _again._ "Fucking _knock_ next time, _Ian_."

Alex hadn't meant to snap at his uncle, but he was _beyond_ irritated with his relatives. With the _glaring_ exception of his grandfather and cousins, they all acted fucking _five_ on a fucking _good_ day. Ian flinched. "Sorry. You've been nearly thirty minutes. I was starting to worry."

Alex rolled his eyes. What? It wasn't like he was on suicide watch. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

Ian snorted. "No need to get sarcastic."

Alex sighed. "I was serious. I was kind of hoping the extra sun would get me some sort of wake-up hormone."

Ian laughed. "I'm afraid that's not how it works. If it was, I'd be doing that quite a bit myself."

Alex shrugged and began to change for the day. "Hope springs eternal."

Ian snorted. "I'll see you at breakfast."

Alex pulled on his shirt. "What are we doing today?"

Ian huffed. "Not much. It's New Year's, you know."

Alex grinned slightly as he ran a comb through his hair. "I'm surprised Grumps believes in vacations."

Ian shook his head. "He was actually refusing until yesterday and then he changed his mind."

Alex snorted and washed his face. "Is there a reason you feel the need to stay for my morning routine?"

Ian huffed. "I'm checking for injuries, you paranoid twerp."

Alex grinned. "What was that, Mr. I-put-on-my-seatbelt-to-drive-five-meters-down-the-street?"

Ian began an ever familiar lecture. "Seatbelts prevent automobile deaths in the thousands, if not millions. Cars weigh…"

Alex felt himself grinning through the lecture he'd heard about a thousand times. Eat shit, Blunt. Well. past-Blunt. This one hadn't done anything except his job and a creepy house visit. Alex decided to cut in. "Yes, Ian. Now, can we get breakfast sometime this year, please?"

Ian paused. Moved to the stairs and continued to spout car statistics through the entire time Alex ate. The rest of the relatives just eyed the man like he'd lost his mind. Alex choked back a snort at the expression on Marion's face. You bet Ian knew the number of car deaths in England this year, including Christmas week.

* * *

Patrick decided to interrupted Ian's sermon - sorry, lecture - on car safety after he'd finished eating. "Alright, Ian, as _illuminating_ as your lecture is, I'd rather listen to the sounds of copulation, so please desist at once."

Alex felt his mouth drop open. Lily was the only one not gaping. "Um, what's copulation?"

Alex sighed. "Sex, Lily, copulation is sex."

She turned a red bright enough to match a fire truck. "Wait. How do _you_ know that?"

Alex smirked. "I have older friends, for one. Two, I'm a snarky shit, so I got forced to read the dictionary a ton in Primary. I would have gotten past 'C' at some point."

Lily grinned. "Wait, so what did you do when you found that word?"

Alex snorted with laughter. "Went home and asked Ian and Jack what sex was. Ian was...very thorough...in his explanation."

Lily howled with laughter. "Poor innocent you."

Patrick cleared his throat. "Moving on, children."

Everybody was silent. "We are celebrating New Year's. I expect everybody to behave. Try not to overindulge and for the love of all that is holy, do _not_ sing. That means all of you."

Ian huffed. "What are we supposed to do all day, then?"

Patrick shrugged. "Entertain yourselves. Hopefully, you are capable of such as an adult."

Ian actually looked offended. "What gives you the right to interrupt my lecture to my nephew?"

Patrick smirked. "Your lecture was offending the common decency of the room."

Ian's eyes flared. "Bite my ass, Beckett! That _comment_ offended the common decency!"

Alex was about to cut in with Ian's hypocrisy, but Patrick interjected. "Children, please excuse us while we argue."

Alex exited the room with some reluctance. Cough, Marion dragging him out, cough. He wanted to see what new insults he could learn from Patrick. Honestly.

* * *

Alex was pouting, much to Marion's amusement. "Why'd you drag me out?"

His aunt's eyes danced with mirth. "Patrick said to leave. He's the head of the family."

Alex protested. "But he's great. I wanted to learn new insults."

Marion laughed out loud. "Come to live with us, then." Alex sighed. "Besides, Patrick is hardly age-appropriate."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Your lessons aren't age-appropriate."

Marion rolled her eyes. "At least you are keeping your end of the bargain."

Alex didn't really want to be reminded of the said bargain. "I keep my promises."

Alex did have a question, though. "What _is_ with Patrick's obsession with all things sex-related?"

Marion looked at him laughed and looked at him again. "Oh, making up for lost time, I suppose. He grew up in a _very_ traditional family. No sex until marriage _at all_. The poor man."

Alex frowned. "When did he get married?"

Marion shrugged. "Arranged marriage at twenty-five, I believe."

Alex started. "Really?"

Marion shrugged. "It may have been twenty-three. I get the ages mixed up. They were only two years apart."

Alex grinned. "I dare you to say that to his face."

Marion burst out laughing. "Sorry, Alex. If you want to see some gore, you'll have to sign up for my less theoretical lessons."

Alex flipped her off and she continued snorting. Lily raised an eyebrow. "Why does Grandfather speak to you so much?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Well, Grumpy the Magic Grout gets to see me about two to four weeks every year. He gets to see you twenty-four/seven. He's probably making up for lost time?"

Lily was still giggling at his nickname for Grumps. Darian raised an eyebrow. "Do you call him that to his face?"

Alex smirked. "Don't think I don't have a nickname for you, Daridork."

A pillow sailed past his head. Alex grabbed the nearest one and hit his uncle in the head with it. "Oh, that's it, you brat. Pillow fight!"

Alex ducked as another pillow went flying his way. "You're on, Daridork!"

Marion was laughing madly and nailed her brother in the head with a pillow. Jason chucked one at his sister and the fight began in earnest. About forty-five minutes and a bunch of colorful blurs later, Ian and Patrick walked in on their pillow fight. Whump! Five pillows connected with the two family members. "Oops."

Ian snorted and Patrick sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "A pillow fight, really?"

There was Ian. Alex smirked and let out a cough that sounded suspiciously like the word 'Tulip'. Ian reddened ever so slightly and immediately shut up. Patrick sighed. "As the only person in the family above the mental age of fifteen, I feel obligated to tell you to come up with a New Year's resolution."

The adults scowled at him. "Hey!"

Patrick smirked. "We covered this at the last reunion children. Hay is for horses. Do try to keep up."

Alex choked back a snort. "Lily, Jason, private meeting in my office."

His cousins glanced at him. Alex did his best to look reassuring. "Now, please."

His cousins followed Patrick out of the room. Alex sat down on the couch and toyed with the fringe. "Wonder what that's about."

Alex rolled his eyes at Ian's obvious ploy. "Nice try."

Ian's eyes glinted playfully. "Such suspicion. I'm hurt."

Alex snorted. "Cry me a river."

Marion and Darian were glancing between the two of them and their retorts with raised eyebrows. "One tiny hint couldn't hurt."

Alex smirked. "One tiny bullet from Patrick definitely would, though."

Ian sighed and leaned back. "Marion."

Marion sat down next to him. Alex was starting to sense a pattern here. "Screw off."

Marion snorted. "I haven't said anything yet."

Alex arched an eyebrow. "I just conveniently remembered that we're not speaking to each other."

Marion huffed. "That is way too subjective."

Alex smirked. "Then you should have specified more terms or waited for an environment where you could have."

Marion gave him the evil eye. "My lessons are not that bad."

Alex huffed. "I still heartily object to the premise."

Marion snarked. "The idealism of a child."

Alex retorted. "The rattling of a cold-hearted cynic."

Ian decided to cut in. "You two are being awfully confrontational."

Alex fired back. "This coming from the guy who routinely substitutes her name with a swear word?"

Ian scowled. "That's different."

Alex snorted. Hypocrite. "How, pray tell?"

Darian cut in. "Not to mention he tried to strangle me last night. Again."

The four of them started at once.

"You always start like this-"

"Why does no one see exactly-"

"I swear, you twits-"

"What on earth-"

Alex promptly dropped out in favor of watching them scream at each other. It was sort of funny if you ignored the fact that they were all incredibly deadly, armed, and family members. He decided to tune them out and in favor of watching their hands. Alex sighed as he realized he'd be the one breaking up the fight if it got physical. Lucky him. Sharpshooting with Yassen might end up paying off...at the family reunion, on his family members. Oh, it would be nothing lethal. Just a graze to keep them from killing each other. Alex's attention automatically flipped to Darian who was drawing a knife. The others were reaching towards their weapons as well. Well, shit. Alex drew his guns and let off three shots before they could react. The first grazed Darian's arm. The second barely clipped his aunt's shoulder and the third drew a long thin line down Ian's forearm. "Alright. Shut up, sit down, and quit trying to murder each other while I get the first aid kit. That means you, Marion."

His aunt quit going for her other knife. Alex opened the nearby cabinet and got out the first aid kit. Just in time for Patrick to come down. "What on Earth is going on?"

Alex sighed. "They tried to kill each other, again. I stopped them, again."

Patrick looked at them and shrugged. "Serves them right, arguing in front of you. Humph."

Patrick paused for a minute. "Wait. Again?"

Alex sighed. "Ian and Darian were at it last night."

Patrick looked furious. "Children. The job is dangerous enough already without adding fratricide to the mix."

They all looked fairly ashamed. Patrick started tossing them first-aid supplies. "Nice shooting, Alex."

His grandfather said before exiting the room. Marion hissed as she disinfected her shoulder. "Ow. Fuck. I can't believe the old fart actually gave you a compliment."

Alex snorted. "Well, someone has to keep you lot from killing each other after he dies a hopefully natural death."

Darian was already wrapping his arm. "Where did you learn to shoot? Ian, while pretty and with many talents, doesn't shoot that well."

Alex gave him a look. Bite him. "It was Ian."

Darian sighed. "Fine. Be like that."

Ian hissed at that comment. "What was that supposed to mean, Daridork?"

Darian snorted as he walked out of the room. "Figure it out yourself, Bond. Or did you sleep with your boss for that promotion?"

Alex mentally gagged at the image that conjured up. "What, like you did?"

Alex was feeling slightly nauseous at the thought of people related to him shagging other people. "I'm going to go now. Patrick! Wait up!"

Alex all but ran from the room.

* * *

His grandfather shot him an amused look as he sat down in the other sitting room. "Question, Alex?"

Alex put on his most innocent face. "Do you know if any of them are allergic to sedatives of any kind?"

Patrick chuckled. "They are not, to the best of my knowledge. Why?"

Alex grumbled under his breath. "Two words, Gramps. Sleep. Darts."

Patrick sighed. "You shall have to learn to deal with their arguments in the end. You haven't even met the others."

Alex gave his grandfather a look. "You plan on changing that, though."

Patrick shrugged and opened what Alex realized was a liquor cabinet. The scotch Patrick got out was very nice. Alex sniffed it and gagged. "It's an acquired taste."

Alex raised an eyebrow. Patrick would usually take the hint. "Not until you are fourteen at the very least."

Oh, joy. Just what about fourteen made it the perfect age for forced recruitment of some kind? Alex paused as his grandfather rose and walked to the kitchen. There was some kind of wine, cloves, cinnamon, orange peel, and raisins. Alex stared. "Why do we need four liters of Glühwein?"

Patrick gave him a look. "It's New Year's."

Alex smirked. "Gramps, do you have a drinking problem?"

Patrick whacked him upside the head. "No such thing."

Alex snorted. "Yes, Gramps, there is."

Patrick looked at him. "Are you going to help your poor old grandfather or not?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Extortion, old man? I guess I should help you to make sure you don't poison it."

Patrick gave him a fond look. "That's the spirit."

Alex muttered nearly inaudibly. "Yeah, of paranoia."

Hopefully, Patrick hadn't heard him.

* * *

Nightfall came faster than Ian Rider would admit. Especially since he spent the time arguing with Helen's siblings in full view of - Where was Alex? Ian paused to listen for a moment before he heard two people in the kitchen. His father-in-law and Alex. Because the old fart just had to spend time with Alex and rub it in everybody's face. For Christ's sake, Patrick was nosier than he was and Alex gave _him_ a pass? Why? Lily and Jason were sitting and watching them. "Something wrong with your hands?"

He probably shouldn't be taking his angst out on children. Lily smiled mournfully. "Our cooking skills, actually. I set three stoves on fire. I didn't mean to, honest."

Jason shrugged. "Guilty by association. We get to learn on campfires until Grandfather says we can cook on the stove again."

Ian shrugged and sat down. "Must have been a bad fire."

Lily flushed. "It was. Melted the stove."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "All three times?"

Jason scowled at him. "Yes, now shut up or change the subject."

Ian sighed loudly. "When is that going to be done?"

Patrick answered him. "When it is done, Ian, now be patient and set an example for the children."

Alex rolled his eyes at Patrick's deliberate vagueness. "It should be done in fifteen to twenty minutes, Ian. Relax, you'll get your dinner on time."

Patrick huffed. "Killjoy."

Alex snorted. "You've _met_ Ian, right?"

The man's lips twitched. "Oh, yes. Perhaps I know him better than you."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really, this again?"

Patrick smirked. "I know things about your uncle that would curl your hair, boy."

Alex felt something in him rise. He didn't have a name for it yet. "It might take more than you _think_ to _curl_ my hair, Grandfather."

That was the spy talking. Alex had been careful to keep that part of him in check. Even around Ian and Yassen. But sometimes, he slipped. Patrick's eyes flash. Alex could see the general peeking out from the old man. Alex still wasn't sure which side was the real personality of his grandfather, so to speak. "Or perhaps we would both be _surprised_ , Alex."

It came out as almost a purr. That was the general. Then, Patrick seemed to reign in the darker half of his personality. "Dinner time, children."

Alex was both relieved and disappointed. Relieved that Patrick seemed to sense that he refused to let the man test his loyalty to Ian. He was disappointed he wasn't about to learn more about his uncle. Alex knew he would support his family and friends with his dying breath and eternal soul, even if they didn't know it yet. After all, he'd already pledged his soul to Death. Or at least, he was fairly certain he had. Grim hadn't outright stated it, but Alex figured that whatever would keep his consciousness immortal had to have cost his soul or given Death power over it.

* * *

Dinner was wonderful. It was as delicious as it smelled. The first course was white asparagus soup that was made a while ago, but had been frozen. The creaminess of it was surprisingly subtle and the shrimp didn't overpower it the way he'd expected. The next course was cold cuts and eggs with mackerel caviar. He didn't much like the caviar, but the meat was really good. The main course was the best veal he'd ever had, not too tender and not too soft, cauliflower that he stayed away from (who liked the stuff?), salad, green beans that were spiced just enough, potatoes, and sweet cooked pears. The cheese course came after and had at least two of his favorite French cheeses that he totally wanted more of, but sadly disappeared before he could get a third helping. The dessert was crème brûlée and very good vanilla ice cream. Afterward, there was tea and the fancy mini-cakes that he'd never seen out of restaurants for rich people. Technically, it was very late lunch, but it lasted for nearly four hours and ran straight through dinner time. Gramps then broke out some really old champagne. The label was falling off and he had already set up seven champagne flutes. Alex was starting to seriously think that Gramps drank straight through the family reunions and was trying to justify his behavior by pawning it off on them. Oh, well. Alex may as well enjoy the permission to drink while it lasted. He wasn't sure how Ian would take it outside of this context and he didn't want to rock the already struggling boat. Alex nearly choked in shock at the surprisingly sweet taste. It was actually good. To be fair, that was probably because it tasted more like juice than any kind of alcoholic beverage. Then Alex remembered the mulled wine they made earlier. How on earth were they supposed to drink it all? He shrugged and went along with it as his family tuned into the New Year's special on the idiot box. "The fireworks won't start until midnight, you know."

His family rolled their eyes. "Yeah, we know."

After his second glass of champagne (sorry, Italian sparkling wine), Alex was starting to feel a little hazy, so he quit while he was ahead. There was no need to beat the family record for the youngest hangover. He was sure the prats would keep one, just to hold it over the head of whoever the poor sod was. Ian was also giving him the evil eye, so Alex had a feeling that if he took anymore he'd be in trouble for violating Ian's (technically not yet explained) alcohol rules. Yassen would probably kill him for this as it was. Alex sighed and went back to his slightly drunk observation of the 'news'. He wondered what his relatives had in store for midnight.

* * *

It was finally midnight. Alex and his relatives had spent the time mainly talking about non-touchy geopolitical subjects and drinking. Well, Alex had quit after two and resolved to not go for anything else but the mulled wine at slightly after midnight. Marion suddenly got up. "What's going on?"

Marion actually smiled, for once. "Homemade fireworks and thermite."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Already made, I hope?"

Marion rolled her eyes. Sue him. Fireworks were dangerous to make. Frank knew some chemistry buddies who'd lost fingers making fireworks at home. "Of course, dear. No explosive item building while drunk."

Alex chuckled. "I knew that already, but I was just checking."

Marion gave him a fond smile. They all finished watching the major part of the firework shows and slowly followed Marion. Alex was handed a few packages wrapped in the plain brown paper after they'd all bundled up to go out into the frozen tundra. Marion handed him a good lighter, too. It was the kind that could actually hold a flame for a bit. They all opened their packages. Ian let off his first. Roman candles. Alex's personal favorite was a tie between the bottle rockets and the pooping dog firework. It always got a chuckle or two out of both him and Jack. Sadly, Gramps had all the bottle rockets and practically hissed at anyone who wanted to set one off. Guess he knew which ones were Patrick's favorite. Darian was setting up some sort of cult-like design with the dozens of sparklers he had. He somehow managed to get them to set off in stages. Lily and Jason were covertly setting their off and carefully aiming away from the frozen, snow-covered, trees. No need to tempt fate. Alex opened his and found Roman candles, sparklers, and one of the pooping dog fireworks. He grinned as he set it on the ground and carefully stepped away as he lit the fuse. Alex caught Ian's eyes and saw his uncle rolling them. The Roman candles were next and the sparklers Alex made last for a bit as Gramps' rockets exploded overhead. The thermite was saved for last. The color of the explosion would be a surprise. The bang and the orange flame had to be heard for miles around, not to mention the huge black smoke column. It was kinda epic, although the brightness kind of hurt his eyes after the dimness he'd gotten used to. They went inside shortly after, the silence almost as loud as the explosion itself. Patrick actually favored them with a smile. "Happy New Year, children."

They all replied in turn. Patrick began pouring out the mulled wine. "Thank you."

His grandfather gently handed him a cup. "Bed after this, I think."

Alex shrugged. Nobody seemed to feel like arguing. Alex figured it was either the hour or the booze or both. The wine was a warm relief from the sub-zero temperature. At that point, did it matter if it was Celsius or Fahrenheit? Alex didn't think so. He went to bed after that, having already called Jack and Tom and Mandy. He'd debated calling the others but settled for texting them or (in _certain_ cases) ignoring their existence. For once, he had no issues falling asleep.

* * *

Alex was woken at an ungodly hour by loud swearing he recognized as his aunt's and grandfather's. Normally, he would have totally ignored it, but this sounded particularly urgent. By the ungodly hour, he meant six o'clock. Alex tried to ignore it, but the voices were getting louder and he was a light sleeper. The door connecting him to his cousin's rooms opened shortly after that and Lily and Jason barged into his room. Alex tried to block out the artificial light with his pillow and failed miserably at ignoring the two warm bodies in his bed. "What's going on?"

Jason shrugged. "Like they tell us."

Lily was cutting off circulation in his arm. "I've never seen mum actually scared before."

Scratch it, both of them were cutting off circulation. Right, his cousins were frightened. Alex was more of a figure out what the fuck is going on and fix it kind of guy, but he figured they were still children and relatively shielded. He moved his arms out from under his technically older cousins and to their necks. "Right, guys, I'm sure everything will be fine. If we were in real trouble, the adults would be evacuating us."

Lily was close enough that he could feel her pulse start going back to its normal rate. Jason shrugged, but his heart wasn't beating any slower than Lily's. "We knew that."

Alex withheld his snort like the mature adult in the situation should. Barely. "Right."

Jason swatted him. "Sarcasm isn't a crime."

Jason grinned. "It is when your future intelligence boss calls it 'insubordination' and sends you on a suicide mission to a country nobody sane has ever heard of to be hung, drawn, and quartered."

Alex snorted. While he wouldn't put it past Blunt, Jones was a little more reasonable. I mean, you wouldn't _die_ during said punishment, but you might wish dying of boredom were actually possible by the end of it. "So that excludes us, then, 'cause we've definitely heard of the Democratic Republic of Congo, which is neither democratic nor republican if reports are to be believed."

He was still a little sleepy and the extra warmth was not helping them. Lily giggled. "Well, nobody ever accused mum of being sane."

Alex snorted and ran his fingers through her hair. "I would imagine not."

Lily was now yawning. "Yes, please do come in, hop in bed, and fall asleep."

Lily swatted somewhere approximating his head, but missed and got the pillow. "Shush. I'm getting comfortable."

Alex sighed. "Just this once, then, you two."

Jason was like a mini-radiator. It was almost like having his wolf back. Alex sighed and decided that he was going back to sleep with his cousins.

* * *

Ian Rider had known it was a bad idea to get involved with the family 'not a cult' and now he was stuck. Unfortunately, his sense of honor was not going to allow him to get out of his current pile of shit unscathed. Marion was huffing in the corner. The current debate was on whom to leave behind with the children. Darian was a pushover. Marion was a maniac. Patrick was wholly unsuitable. Ian was sure there were a few perfectly good reasons not to let him look after Alex, but couldn't think of any current examples of the man's irresponsibility. At any rate, this was a bad idea and he should have arrested them for terrorism, personal consequences be damned, a while ago. It would vastly simplify his life. Then again, he could never really bring himself to carry out any of his plans. In the heat of the moment? Sure, he might strangle his mildly pervy brother-in-law, but he never _actually tried_ to murder his 'relatives'. Ian wasn't sure why. Maybe because he suspected that it was how John wanted it? For Alex's sake maybe? Ian drummed his fingers and continued to argue that he would be the best bet for looking after the children. Plus, he had his own job to consider. Jones put up with a lot of his shit because he was good at his job, but there was only so much he could get away with. Marion's job description and hours were...considerably more flexible. Darian was technically retired for medical reasons (shot in the chest). Patrick had retired at the standard age and had a pension, but he was still on good enough shape to snap a guy's neck. Ian would bet money the man could still take him. Patrick sighed. "Since we are both unwilling to leave our children, or child in your case, alone with the other side of the family for an extended period of time, perhaps a compromise of sorts?"

Ian sighed. "What did you have in mind?"

Patrick eyed him. "How large is the house in Chelsea?"

Ian shrugged. "Very. It was meant to hold three generations of us with at least two kids each, although the younger ones might have to share rooms."

Patrick drummed his fingers against the table. "You and I could remain with the children. Marion and Darian could handle this."

Ian ran his hands through his hair. "I could live with that, as long as you mind the language. We also live with one of my colleagues, Ms. Starbright, and Tom Harris."

Patrick's smile had more teeth than joy. "That should be acceptable. The Harris boy?"

Ian glared at the man. "Don't even think about it. He's suffered enough without your help."

Patrick let that one go. "Very well. Children! What have we told you about eavesdropping?!"

* * *

Alex and his cousins were wearing identical smirks. "Not to get caught while doing it, Grandfather."

Apparently, his cousins had the same lecture. Alex cut off the impending doom with a question. "What is going on?"

Patrick sighed. "One of the Tanakas was found out by their respective crime syndicate. We are organizing a rescue mission, as the Chens have refused to help."

Alex resisted the eyeroll. "So what are we doing?"

Patrick's amusement was not lost on him. "You, children, will be staying with Ian and me at Alex's house."

Alex resisted a scowl. "Ian agreed to this?"

Ian openly scowled. "Reluctantly."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few facts... (To the best of my knowledge)
> 
> 1\. Alex's BAC at this point (after two drinks) would be about 0.07 - 0.09, assuming his weight is near or slightly more (due to muscle) than the average eleven or twelve-year-old boy. Also, I don't endorse underage drinking, but this is how these types of celebrations went with my European friends and I. Some of them were allowed to drink as young as nine (including myself – for special occasions), though they are all fine and well-adjusted people as far as I know.
> 
> 2\. Depending on the year we go by as Alex's birthday this name may change, the Democratic Republic of Congo would be thus named in 1964 until 1971 (it was renamed the Republic of Zaire from 1971 - 1997 under Mobutu). The current constitution came into being around 2006 and the country is now known as the Democratic Republic of the Congo. Due to the inconsistencies (minor) in the timeline in the original story, I was unable to fix upon the name to use. It would also depend on the textbooks used in Alex's school as well. Some of mine were 12 years old and held inaccurate country boundaries (and names) for Africa. I have also used a map (for purely physical features, like mountains) from the Soviet era (USSR on the map and all) at home.


	42. A Home Invasion

England in the winter was not all that much warmer than Russia. There was a certain dampness in the air that made up for the lack of snowdrifts and seemed to seep in through your layers. Alex wondered if he wasn't depressed or insane sometimes. Then again, tensions between Jack and Ian and, surprisingly, Patrick and Crawley had been on the rise. Tom was back to being his only human comfort. Unsurprisingly, all the adults had very different ideas on how he should be raised. Alex was glad that Marion hadn't come because the family was on the verge of outright violence as it was. Lily and Jason had made the mistake of getting involved and were now earning the ire of both Ian and Jack. Crawley had been surprisingly fiery in his defense of Alex's remaining childhood and actually threatened to dismember Patrick. Jack seemed to hate the man almost as much as Crawley hated him when he arrived but had been furious when she found out that it had been Ian preventing him from contacting Alex. Crawley was pissed about Patrick's enforcement of Alex's education. Ian and Crawley were both against him seeing Mordant, while Jack and Patrick fully supported it. Jason and Lily hadn't taken kindly to the interference from people not in the know (Alex suspected Crawley knew more than he was technically supposed to but wasn't about to say anything) and had proceeded to tell off Ian, Crawley, and Jack. Tom had been smart enough to stay out of it and Fenrir couldn't talk. All in all, nobody was speaking to each other, minus the bare minimum. Alex pulled on his coat to escape the stifling silence. "Can I come with you?"

Tom was there. It was three more days until Friday when they would see Mandy and the rest. Alex smiled. "Sure."

Tom pulled on a coat and they ignored the adults glaring at each other in silence in the living room. Alex's cousins had disappeared into their rooms to study. Alex had already completed both his private and known-within-the-family studies for the day. Getting up early had helped with that. Fenrir was already trotting over with his leash. Alex felt a surge of happiness at the fact that Fenrir was so eager to go on their walks together. The massive dog rose into his touch as he put the collar on and practically dragged Alex along in his haste to go outside. Tom was grinning as they went outside. Alex walked a ways away from his house. "Will you keep my secrets, Tom?"

Tom gave him a look that was equal parts worry, offense, and sincerity. "Always."

Alex opened the bunker after they went into a particular alley. "Awesome."

His best friend breathed. Alex grinned as he walked into the hallway. "This, Tom is now a secret between three people."

Tom glanced at him. "Ian?"

Alex snorted. "Nah, a man named, Brandon, you know him."

Tom squinted for a second. "The doctor? Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Not all my story to tell, but his dad helped make the place."

They explored. Alex was naturally gravitating towards the library.

* * *

Speak of the devil. "Dr. Brandon. How are you settling in?"

The former army captain looked surprisingly glad to see him. "Alex, it's Charles. Who did you bring?"

Alex shrugged. "The giant furry rug is Fenrir; the small runt is Tom."

His friend squawked indignantly. "Small?! Not all of us had freakishly tall relatives!"

Alex rolled his eyes. Tom was just so fun to bait sometimes. Charles was smirking now. Alex was glad he could still entertain. "So what are you up to?"

Charles sighed. Should he get the kid involved? Probably not. Was his life shitty enough that he was considering it? Yes. "Plotting and paying rent on a piece of shit flat by doing a job I'm overqualified for. You?"

Alex shrugged. "Family drama. More family drama. And more family drama."

Alex suppose you could boil down all of his problems into that category. SCORPIA was a family problem and so were the adults in his life. Plus, MI6 could totally count, too. Alex didn't even want to think about his relatives or the Black Circle. Technically, only the Pretty Committee was not a family thing. Brandon chuckled. "Yeah, I figured. We reading?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure."

Sometimes it was nice to just have a non-awkward silence. Tom glanced around the library. "What's so interesting in here?"

Alex grinned. "This one will teach you all about explosions, Tom."

Tom grabbed the book. It was one of the many violent selections in the library. Alex figured it would keep his friend's attention. Some of his selections would probably be boring as shit to Tom. Brandon was pretending to read while examining his youngest ever patient. The kid looked terrible. The bags under his eyes were almost black and they both seemed a bit down. Charles wondered if the kid wasn't an insomniac. There was medication for it, after all. Christ, he hoped it wasn't whatever crazy study regimen his relatives wanted him on. No normal child read at a college level like this kid did. It might be Christmas break, but he wasn't sure Mr. Homeschool ever got one. Tom was watching his friend. Despite the seemingly unending drive that Alex possessed, Mandy had warned him about how geniuses pushed too far could burn out. Alex looked almost sick. Tom watched his friend pass out while reading. Thankfully, there were couches. Alex was on one. Tom quietly got up and adjusted Alex so he didn't wake up face-first in a book on some sciency thing. Tom wasn't quite sure what it was, actually. Brandon was shooting Alex concerned looks. Tom shot the door a significant look. Brandon followed him out. "Should we wake him up?"

Tom snorted. "Nah, the dog 'll guard him. Besides, I think he needs the sleep."

Brandon glanced at the kid. "Yeah, he does. Let's go for a walk around here."

* * *

Alex woke up to a wet nose pressed against his palm. He checked his watch. It was about dinner time, so he'd been asleep about five hours. "Good boy, Fenrir." The wolf licked him affectionately. Yellow eyes seemed to gleam with happiness. "Get off, you furry rat. We have to go back to the house." Fenrir huffed but got off of him. Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Can you find Tom and Charles for me?" Fenrir gave him a look that seemed extremely offended. "Sorry, boy, I'm not doubting your skills."

The wolf nudged him and let out a huff before setting out at a middling pace. It was a brisk walk for Alex. Alex let his 'dog' lead him through the halls and, before long, he spotted his two friends. "How'd you find us?"

Alex snorted at Tom's question. "The dog did, actually."

Tom stuck out his tongue. "Cheat."

Alex clasped his chest. "I'm hurt you would ever think such a thing."

Tom snorted with laughter. "So all those card games were chance? I don't think so."

Alex gave him a look of mock offense. "How dare you impugn my honor thus."

Tom started laughing even harder. Tears were beginning to form in his friend's eyes. Charles' eyes glinted with amusement. Alex knew he was now wearing a smirk, despite himself. "I hate to break up the fun, but shouldn't you two be heading out for dinner now?"

Tom and Alex sighed. "Yeah. It was nice talking to you, Cap."

The army captain rolled his eyes. He'd had more offensive nicknames in the army. Alex had nothing on his squadron. "Sure. You two take care."

They both walked towards the bunker entrance, away from him. Damn, he was lonely. His best conversation in months was two kids and the occasional hologram. Charles knew he really should fuck off and get a normal life, but couldn't bring himself to drop the case about his father or forget about the kids. Hell, the mystery was the best part of his life. Fuck all happened to him that didn't involve the kid somehow. Meh, it wasn't like he had family or friends or even a pet. Charles doubted the kid would let him have fluffy the wolf look-alike, but, man, that dog was awesome.

* * *

Tom and Alex walked back to the house in silence. The road was slippery and gleamed from the newly formed ice. "You seem tired."

Alex sighed. "I am tired, Tom."

His wolf was by his side. Tom grinned suddenly. "I missed you, even if you brought back your horrible relatives."

Alex snorted. "I missed you, too. Remember when it was just us, Jack, and your shitty parents?"

Tom smiled. "Yeah. What would you think if I asked for it to be just us?"

Alex sighed. "I would insist we get GCSEs, first."

Tom sighed. "It's just so tense around there."

Alex huffed. "I know."

Tom looked at him. "I feel so ignored."

Alex gave him a look. "I'm sorry."

Tom laughed bitterly. "It's not you. It's mostly the adult's fault." Alex looked at him. "But you, Alex, you never ignored me. You saw what the teachers never wanted to see. You and Jack make an _actual_ effort."

Alex felt overwhelmed with emotion. "Tom, I-"

Tom scowled. "Let me finish. They don't _deserve_ you. You're a _person_ , not a toy. Come with me, Alex. The world can't be so bad. We can live with Jerry if we really need an adult."

Alex stared at Tom in astonishment. His friend bit his lip. Tom looked like he was about to cry. "Right, you think I'm stupid."

Alex grabbed Tom and hugged him, almost knocking him over. "No, you're not stupid. We can't run away now, but we can live together later if you want. Besides, my problems have a way of following me, remember?"

Tom was returning his hug. "I forgot about the dude who sent you a severed head until now, to be honest."

Thankfully, they were in Alex's backyard, or they might be blocking the sidewalk. Alex was still holding Tom. "I love you, Alex. I don't want to see you hurt."

Alex rested his forehead on Tom's shoulder. "It'll get better Tom, I promise. I'll make it happen somehow." Tom snorted. "I love you too, Tom. Never forget."

Tom was smiling into his neck. "Good. Can we stay out here a bit longer?"

Alex shrugged and sat on a frozen bench that he'd placed earlier in this year in the garden. "Sure."

The wolf sat next to them. Surprisingly, it was Patrick, not Jack who interrupted their moment to call them in for dinner. "Boys! Quit declaring your undying love for each other and get inside!"

Alex stifled a grin. There were so many bad jokes to be made right now, so many. Tom gave him an equally amused look. He knew his best friend was thinking of the same crude jokes as he was. They were both wearing shit-eating grins as they walked into their tumultuous home.

* * *

The adults and Alex's cousins were sitting at the table in silence. Alex remembered his promise to Tom. Right, he would make this better. He promised. Tom was holding his hand before they broke apart to take their seats. His friend was smiling at him. A look that Alex knew was meant only for him. Hopeful, loving. Alex felt the well of bittersweet emotions rising in him. Tom was the best and oldest friend he'd ever had. Fenrir dropped his head in Alex's lap, yellow eyes peering hopefully at his plate. Alex resisted the temptation to pet his baby. Ian and Patrick were a lot stricter about table manners around each other. Tom gave him an amused glance that told him who'd been feeding his baby table scraps while he was gone. Alex sat through the semi-formal dinner before he was on the verge of either tears or losing his temper. "Alright, family meeting after dinner. We're going to resolve everybody's issues because I'm sick of this shit."

To Alex's surprise, everybody agreed. He shrugged as they all scowled at each other. Honestly, Tom's idea was appealing, but it would mean open season on him for Nile. Bad idea. Alex adamantly refused to join a crime syndicate that killed his family. Plus, Ian had to have some sort of protection on the house, whereas Jerry's house had what had to be the shoddiest lock in existence. Yassen would kill him anyway if he decided to go live on the street. Or come for him. Alex wasn't sure which one would be worse. Lily and Jason were staring at him like he'd grown a second head. Alex glared at them until they looked away. Social censure didn't scare him. He'd beaten bullies, faced them, and killed grown men in both lives. It seemed childish to just stick to the norm so he wouldn't have to stand up to the adults in his life. Patrick seemed resigned. Jack and Crawley seemed to want to say something but were refraining from doing so. Probably about his language. Alex was beyond giving a fuck at the moment. Well, he was kind of pissed, truth be told, but he was saving that for the meeting.

* * *

Everybody filed into the living room. "Alright people, I'm an autonomous person, so I've made a few decisions."

Alex's tone could have frozen the Sahara. "First, I'm going to see Mordant. Sorry, Ian, but I think I need professional help. Second, Ian and Patrick are going to stick to the educational plan, which gives me the afternoons off. It should be enough. My friends have normal school hours, so I can always go for dinner and weekends. Jack, Crawley, I really do appreciate the intervention, but I kind of want to follow the family tradition on this one. If you really feel like I'm working myself sick, make me see a doctor. Tom will help. Lily and Jason, try to be a bit more inclusive. Tom's not officially adopted, but I consider him part of the family. The same goes for Crawley and Jack. Lay off of them please." At that point, everybody opened their mouths. Alex summoned his other persona. The people in the room instinctively froze. "Now, now. Let me finish." He was Agent Rider at that moment. Except now he had Ian's negotiation skills. "Jack, Ian may have been wrong about keeping me from my relatives, but _please_ forgive him. He's as human as everybody else, so he makes mistakes. I also apologize for my cousins. They are the guarded type and don't take well to new people due to their experiences in the foster system in a shithole country."

Jack's expression softened towards the two. "Of course, Alex. I had no idea."

It wasn't exactly the truth, but Alex figured 'they were inducted into and brainwashed by the family cult' would bring up too many arguments. Tom shot a furtive glance at his cousins. Alex let out a sigh. "Questions?"

Tom shrugged. Lily and Jason sent him apologetic looks. "Alright, as much as I like you three, I want to talk to the adults alone."

They got up and left. Alex then put on his best pleading look. "Jack, um, would you go make sure they don't just stare awkwardly at each other like I did sometimes in primary."

Jack gave him a soft smile. "Of course, Alex. I think it's really nice of you to try to include them."

Jack exited the room. Alex waited until the door closed before looking at Patrick, Ian, and Crawley. "Okay, your turn."

Crawley raised an eyebrow at him. "I didn't realize you were that good."

_At_ manipulation. Alex snorted. "Actual comments and etcetera."

Ian huffs. "Why Mordant?"

Alex shrugged. "Her experience is applicable and Gramps has a blackmail file thicker than our textbooks on her if things go wrong."

Ian glared. "Fine, but I want that packet."

Patrick shrugged. "Done."

Alex glared at them as they tried to escape. "Uh, uh. You three get to make guidelines."

They all sat down. Ian piped up. "No torture until he's at least eighteen."

Alex sighed. "A bit late. I've already had the theory."

Ian's head snapped up. "What?!"

Alex gave him a look. "Marion blackmailed me into keeping quiet. How about no practical until I'm at least eighteen?"

Patrick sighed. "Fine. You may change your mind, however."

Ian huffed but kept the comments to himself. Crawley glanced around. "No operational work aside from theory until you're seventeen. Not counting the stuff you do by yourself."

Patrick snorted out loud. "The lowest I will take is fifteen."

Ian snarled. "Absolutely, not."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. Alex wondered if his grandfather would openly threaten Ian in front of him. "Fuck you, Beckett. I want veto rights."

Apparently, the memory of his grandfather's threat was enough to remind Ian. Patrick sighed. "We will take your opinion into consideration, then."

Alex got the feeling he was humoring Ian. Alex sighed. "I can't think of anything else at the moment."

They all got up. "Next time, sit down and discuss it with me like adults, okay?"

Alex barely kept a mocking edge out of his tone. They all glared at each other. "Fine."

Well, it was better than before.

* * *

The four of them exited the room to find Tom explaining what soccer was to his cousins. Poor Lily and Jason, they'd probably never even seen a game. Alex shrugged. Tom waved him over. "They've never even heard of soccer; Al, it's a crime against humanity."

Alex was tempted to explain to Tom what exactly an _actual_ crime against humanity consisted of but quickly squashed the horrifying urge. Alex grinned. "Oh, but Tom, think of it as a clean slate. We wouldn't want Hale corrupting them with shoddy team tactics, would we?"

Tom snorted with laughter. Those two had argued team tactics so many times it wasn't even funny. "Fair enough, Alex. Besides, Hale is getting better."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. "Why do you call him by his last name?"

Alex smirked. "He still won't concede that I won our last soccer argument."

Tom interrupted. "It was a tie."

Alex adopted an expression of mock outrage. "Bullshit, Tom. That is absolute crap of bull."

Tom snorted. "Sure, Alex, I still have to have someone to talk to when you're gone, though."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You have Jack and Fenrir, though."

Tom's lips twisted. He'd missed the banter. James didn't do it nearly as well as Alex. "Someone within ten years of my age and sentient."

Alex gave him a mock offended look. "Fenrir is very smart."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother Alex, whatever you say."

Alex grinned. "Exactly, Tom."

Patrick raised an eyebrow. Now was as good a time as any. "Yes, where did you acquire your… interesting husky mix?"

Tom loved telling this story. "Well, Alex was walking along the road and heard a poor, pathetic whimpering puppy. Like a good man, he went to investigate and found a tiny injured puppy looking at him with these pathetic blue eyes. Since Alex is a complete sucker for small fluffy animals-"

Alex interjected. "Am not!"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Sorry, animals of any kind. He suckered us into helping take care of foofrums over there and hid him in a closet until he was caught by Jack." Tom paused for breath. "Then, he convinced Jack to let him keep big, yellow-eyed, and creepy and Jack convinced Ian to let him keep his beloved pet, who he won't hear a word against, takes on train rides, and feeds raw fucking meat."

Alex shrugged unashamedly. Fenrir was his baby. Lily and Jason were staring at him like he was insane. "I'm not that bad."

Jack laughed in the background. "Sure, Alex, whatever helps you sleep at night."

That was Crawley. Alex wondered if he shouldn't dismember the man. "My dog is perfectly normal."

Crawley rolled his eyes. Yeah, sure, and he ran MI6. Fortunately, Tom beat him to it. "Yeah, perfectly spoiled, too."

Alex began bickering with Tom about his dog. Crawley used it as a chance to shoot Ian a look and step into the hall.

* * *

Ian followed him into the room they now shared. "How was the family reunion?"

Ian sighed. "Complete shit, John, complete shit."

Crawley sat down across from Ian. "Sit closer, John. I don't bite that much."

Crawley knew Ian was trying to be distracting and it was totally working. "What happened?"

Ian sighed. "We argued about Alex and about John and about everything else. I think I want to kill my brother and sister-in-law. I almost strangled Darian in front of Alex after he accused me of forgetting he wasn't John and training him as an assassin. I just found out that Mossad bitch blackmailed him into a theoretical set of interrogations lessons."

Crawley sat next to Ian. "Jones was surprised you took holiday with the family but totally cool with it. Brooke is being his usual self. Blunt doesn't care unless it turns critical. Your job is fine."

Ian leaned on him. "Thank you."

Crawley felt himself react to the touch. "Right, Ian, no murdering the in-laws. We don't have much to hold Mossad off with and they're very zealous about protecting and avenging their own."

Crawley ran his hands through Ian's hair. "Sorry for not speaking to you."

Ian shrugged. "A conversation could have been started by either one of us, John."

Crawley sighed. "Yeah, but that was petty."

Ian was acting fairly cuddly. "I forgive you."

Crawley sighed. "Ian."

The man was deliberately teasing him now. The brown eyes had a tell-tale mischievous glint. "What?"

Crawley mentally rolled his eyes at the faux-innocent look. "I'm trying to have a conversation with you."

Ian's hands were being teasingly light on his chest. "So talk."

Crawley grabbed Ian's hands in his own. "I missed you."

Ian's smirk was not helping him concentrate. "I'm glad. I missed you too."

The reply was purred out. Crawley sighed. "Ian, I was worried about you."

Ian pulled him into a hug. Crawley hugged him back. If it was even possible, Ian seemed fitter. "It's okay, John, I'm back now."

He felt Ian smirk on his collar. "You can even check me for scratches if you want."

Crawley felt his cheeks warm. "Everybody's still up."

It sounded like a very weak protest, even to his ears. Ian grabbed him, pulled him up and dumped them both on the bed with Ian on top. Crawley felt Ian on top of him. The man was carefully kissing his collarbone. Oh, _Jesus._ "Don't worry, the walls are pretty soundproof."

Crawley lost the battle against not paying attention to Ian being _distracting_ entirely at that.

* * *

Jack looked around. "Where did they go?"

The six of them had been bickering off and on about Alex's pet in between hot chocolate and selecting a movie. Alex shrugged. "Make-up sex, probably. They haven't seen each other in like a month, too."

Jack turned scarlet. "Alex!"

She sounded scandalized. His grandfather looked vaguely amused. "You did ask, Ms. Starbright."

Jack sputtered. "You shouldn't really say that Alex. It's not really polite."

Alex gave her a mischievous grin. "I thought you told me _not_ to lie to you."

Jack shook her head. "Be as that may, there are some things I don't really want to know."

Alex shrugged. "Sorry."

Jack shrugged. "It's okay, sweetie, I know you mean well."

Patrick shrugged. "I don't mind either way."

Lily piped up. "Well, I'd watch."

Alex felt himself gag at the idea. Jack looked horrified. "Lily, you should always ask before you watch."

Lily shrugged. "I know, but still…"

Alex sighed and rescued Jack by taking her into the kitchen. Jack was red. "She-She-"

Alex sighed. "Still adjusting, Jack. Besides, it's not as though they're actually related. Didn't you have a crush on your second cousin once?"

Jack flushed. "It was completely innocent."

Alex patted her on the arm. "This is pretty much the same. Besides, do you really think Ian'd let her watch?"

Jack looked relieved. "Definitely not."

Alex grabbed some hot chocolate. "Exactly."

Tom was eavesdropping in the doorway. "Makes sense to me, mate. Movie time!"

Jack rolled her eyes. They were such boys. "Movie time, indeed."

* * *

Patrick Beckett had a lot of time to reflect on events in his life recently. He was nearing his sixties, although not quite there yet. Alex Rider. His grandson. The thought made him nearly choke with pride, although he would probably never say so aloud. Alex was gifted, almost too gifted for any other child. Ian had nearly destroyed the child in his own carelessness. Patrick didn't think it was intentional, more a by-product of the man's own instability. There was still the possibility of insanity, as well. Marion could not and would not be the child's primary guardian. For civilians, (in Patrick's opinion Crawley counted) Starbright and Crawley made a formidable team. The Harris boy was likely to be the most trouble if he found out the truth. He was resourceful and perceptive enough to want Alex to run away with him. Patrick had the foresight to bug him. It was often the friends that were the most overlooked part of the children. Alex was welcome to keep his own secret company and spaces if he pleased. Patrick had started building his own away from the parents and both organizations when he was not that much older. The situation was precarious as it was. Patrick was ninety percent sure that his nephew had at least one alternate identity prepared. An escape route was good. Alex's connection to this part of the family was tenuous at best, however. For one, Alex did not _actually_ need them for his own survival. Sure, Alex would not do nearly as well without a family and legitimate education, but he would live. Even if it required living in the wilderness for years on end. For another, Alex could and would cut them off for all but the direst emergencies if pushed too far. In that sense, Patrick could almost see the temptation to train him as an assassin. Alex was certainly self-sufficient enough to make it as one. Three, however strong his relationship with Ian was, Alex seemed cautious about trusting him and intelligence agencies by extension. The child didn't honestly think that Ian would pick MI6 over him, did he? Then again, Ian's track record on that was far from clean. That wasn't even factoring in his relationships with...other interested parties. Two assassins, a communist fanatic, a mob boss with a controlling interest in the drug trade, and bombers of dubious sanity. It had taken a lot of digging just for those. Patrick suspected Alex might have a few more people up his sleeve. If it wasn't to his ultimate advantage, he would have cursed the boy and his unnatural luck and charm. Patrick sighed as he watched the children go up to bed at the movie's conclusion. Tomorrow, Alex would be approaching Mordant. Patrick had only had to help him with the very basest levels of his strategy. His nephew seemed to have it figured. Mordant was useful. She also had the ability to turn people with certain personality aspects into killers. She and a few colleagues had been disbarred for unethical practices with some of their patients. They hadn't been able to get enough proof to send them to jail, however. Alex was probably one of her favorite kinds of patients. Just practical enough to kill, but not the type to enjoy it. This would be interesting. He only hoped Alex didn't quite catch on to Belinda until it was too late. Truth be told, the faster Alex quit feeling guilty, the better. Patrick had looked into the man's death and he had deserved a knife to a major artery and more.

* * *

Alex was preparing to break into his new psychologist's house. It probably wasn't the typical start to a patient-therapist relationship, but Alex figure he wanted to set the tone for their interactions right away. Alex wondered if he shouldn't dress in all black, but he figured she might panic at that. Besides, it would be rather difficult to deny that he was breaking into the police (if they were summoned) if he actually dressed the part of a criminal. He debated taking a backpack but had decided that he could fit most of his gear under his coat. It was already in place. Alex had practiced all the movements to disable her alarm multiple times the night before. And now he sounded like some sort of stalkery rapist. Alex mentally cursed everyone who had ever involved him in any kind of event that would cause him to need therapy. Alex had decided to take every weapon, just in case. Five knockout darts, fifteen poison darts, throwing knives, a garrote, a few other kinds of poison, a few experimental smoke and stun grenades, and a firearm. No, he wasn't paranoid at all. Yassen would be proud. Or alarmed, considering this lady was supposed to be relatively helpful. Alex was glad it was winter and nobody would question bulky attire. He'd have to find other ways to conceal his gear or communicate with Smithers to get help for that. Or Maddox might have a few ideas. Brandon might want gadgets, too, now that Alex thought about it. Plus, there was the fact that he needed some way to hold a private conversation without being disturbed or bugged. Alex had found one that he suspected was his grandfather's a yesterday (after resolving to check every day) and dropped it into the man's morning bowl of cereal as soon as they were the only two left in the kitchen. Alex could swear the old fart had been amused more than anything else. Nobody had ever accused pissed-off Alex of being stealthy, for some reason. He stepped outside of the house and was submerged in the freezing darkness in seconds. Alex slowly approached the house and tried to stay out of sight. He had plastic gloves on under his actual ones because he could pick the door lock with thick, heavy winter gloves. It was open in a few seconds. Amazing, what practice could do. Alex typed in the code that had been in the file and it actually worked. Well, he could always practice cutting into alarm systems at a later date. A glance at his watch told him Belinda should be up in fifteen minutes. Alex wasn't the only chronic insomniac in the house. He sat on the couch and waited.

* * *

Belinda Mordant had one been a good psychiatrist, for the most part. There had been many patients who benefitted from her therapy, unorthodox though it may have been. A few had even been psychiatrists themselves. In psychiatry, a fairly modern mode of medicine, there had been a few doctors that were a little too intrigued by possibilities and a little less than ethical. It was just the same as any science. Tuskegee, the Stanford Prison experiment and various other infamous examples had her colleagues anxious to learn what could and could not be done. She hadn't been as blatant as some, but over the years Mordant had crossed a few lines and she knew it. Then, into her life had come a few doctors. They had been run with the tacit, if not outright, approval of some government officials. They had been intrigued by results from other criminal organizations, among them, SCORPIA. Wondering if they could replicate the results obtained by Steiner and D'Arc, they had given the psychology and psychiatry communities a few subtle hints. Then, of course, someone had gotten cold feet and blown it. They had been left out to dry, although most of them had decent insurance against lawsuits. Belinda's troubles stemmed mainly from the fact that she had been attacked by two of her patients. The first had been relatively expected. He had been a violent man and she had pushed too far. It had mainly caused her to question her skills as a professional. The second had been utterly devastating. They had been a colleague, friend, and patient. Belinda had known that they were a sadist with the occasional cannibalistic urge, but she had never dreamed they would kidnap, torture, and attempt to murder her (presumably to consume her). She found herself unwilling to see other patients and occasionally unable to walk out the front door for fear she might return one day for her. It was irrational and they were locked up in one of the most secure facilities on the planet, but she was still afraid.

* * *

"Hello, there."

Belinda was far from amused about having her sanctuary disturbed. She was not expecting a child to be the one to do it, however. "Can I help you?"

Best not to upset the possible murderer, he was wearing a gun. "Well, I think I need a therapist."

Belinda could not resist a sharp reply. "Clearly. Why are you in my home at midnight?"

The boy shrugged. "I did a bit of research. You seem like the women for the job."

Belinda had a sudden flash of insight. "Rider or Beckett?"

The boy shrugged. "Technically both. Do you want some tea?"

Belinda raised an eyebrow. "Yes, my top priority in life when I have my house broken into is to be served my own tea by a possible future sociopath."

The child laughed. At least he had a sense of humor and a grasp of sarcasm. She'd met plenty of vacuous people in her line of work. "I'm Alex Rider. Nice to meet you, Doc."

Belinda sighed. "I assume you have an enormous blackmail file that will wreck what is left of the travesty I call a life should I refuse your generous offer?"

Alex shrugged. "Gramps will pay you if I ask him to, but yeah, pretty much. Sorry."

Belinda sighed. A twisted smile was forming on her face. "My retirement fund is quite sufficient. I'm intrigued. What went wrong? Your families have quite perfected their training methods."

Mordant figured she may as well be productive if she wasn't going to sleep. The boy sighed. "I accidentally killed a man and before that, I killed a terrorist who was threatening my uncle."

Belinda let out a breath. So he was a killer. "How old are you?"

Alex shrugged and finished the tea, setting it in front of her. "Almost twelve."

Belinda refrained from swearing. That was fairly catastrophic in terms of development. Well, she wasn't bored. "Oh, dear. We have our work cut out for us. Right. I'll need you to fill out this questionnaire. Try to refrain from lying. I would normally send this home with you, but in this case, I think the propensity of your relatives for invading privacy would inhibit your ability to answer honestly."

Belinda was expecting a blank stare. What she got was an amused twitched of the boy's lips and a wry look. "You're not wrong, Doc."

Belinda made a mental note. Alex was very, very intelligent and probably at least one of his relatives disapproved of this. She got up and handed him one of her versions of a Mental Health Assessment form. It had mostly standard questions, with a few alterations that she preferred to have on there. It was edited to look more like a test and less like a form, as well. People tended to get less offended if they were sent here by pushy relatives if the form didn't say "Mental Health Assessment". Belinda sat back to enjoy her tea. At the moment, she wasn't even sure if she wanted to get out of this. It would expend a lot of effort and resources and, well, she was bored. Belinda had never wanted to be a housewife, let alone stuck in her house without even a cat for companionship. She had been bored and felt stifled. Belinda had even thought of getting a hobby, but never actually gone through with it. Breakfast. Belinda got up to make it. For the first time in months, it would be something other than toast.

* * *

Alex felt himself become a good deal sleepier after returning from his new psychologist's house. He'd been up for hours already and it was barely five in the morning. Patrick was one the couch and waiting for him, with coffee. "I love you."

Patrick snorted. "Don't let Ian hear you say that. He might have an aneurysm."

Alex laughed. "The funny part is that it is true."

Patrick began to make him breakfast. "Mordant gave me some already."

Patrick shrugged. "And now I am making you some more breakfast."

Alex sighed. "How did it go, anyhow?"

Alex grinned. "She decided to take me as a patient. Not like she had a choice." Patrick smirked. "You better pay her hourly rate plus inflation, or I'm going to be really upset with you."

His grandfather shrugged. "I can afford it."

Alex snorted. "Now you sound like one of those people from Kensington."

Patrick whacked him upside the head and plopped a bowl of fruit salad next to him. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Don't be a brat."

Alex shrugged. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

Patrick took a second cup of coffee. "Yes, and right now, you are driving me to drink."

Alex grinned. "It's coffee, Gramps, unless you're making us both an Irish one."

His grandfather glared. "The last thing you and I need is a drinking problem."

Alex took a second cup as well. He was probably going to get the jitters. Curse his eleven-year-old body. "True."

Alex still felt exhausted after his second cup of coffee. Drat. He'd been hoping to be productive today. The stupid questionnaire had been difficult to fill out as well since it forced him to think about his life for the past few years. He had also watched a few people die, which he'd ended up having to include as well. He kept Yassen out of it by name (he didn't want to spook Belinda) but figured he should at least try to be honest. There had been a few extra sections that told him that the questions were not entirely standard, as well. He'd even answered a few in essay form, especially if it was about the government. Patrick caught him rubbing his eyes after eating the fruit salad and finishing his coffee. "If you are still tired after that much caffeine, you need to sleep." Alex glared at the man, only half-heartedly. He was too tired to muster up actual rage. Patrick's voice was amused, but infused with a hint of steel. "Now, Alex." Alex sighed and went up the stairs to find his dog in his bed. Fenrir let out a sleepy little woof. Alex shrugged and took off the outer layer of his clothing before going to sleep. Fenrir was especially warm and snuggly in the winter.

* * *

Brendan Chase was starting to get twitchy. Pierre hadn't responded and it had been almost four weeks. Typically the man's reply time was about one to two weeks, depending on when they sent the letter in the week. Pierre could be anywhere from dead to reporting the entire conversation to whoever ran him to on a super long assignment. It was killing him not to know. Nile was on vacation after having almost six solid months of Yassen time. It had been known to drive lesser men insane. The doctor was currently about to politely knock on the door to his office. He was sure the man in question had some sort of warning system in place that was similar to his. Three was a paranoid man, almost as paranoid as him. Then again, to be on top of a criminal organization for this long, you had to be. The fax machine started to go off just then. Chase tried to no be too eager to see what it was but failed miserably. It was Pierre. Speak of the devil.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Chase,_

_I do so apologize for the long wait. The holidays are such a busy time of the year, I hadn't been in the position to check messages for a while. Business calls, but I'm sure you knew that already._

* * *

Chase could practically feel the sarcasm dripping off the page. No matter, he would just reply in kind. The paragraph continued.

* * *

_I do so like the holidays. A most wonderful time of the year, especially for people you don't like to have accidents and be generally miserable at family reunions in hideous Christmas sweaters, don't you think? I do hope you like my gift._

_With mild antagonism,_

_Alec Pierre_

* * *

Three was knocking on his door. Chase placed the fax on his desk. Gift? What gift? He hadn't gotten a present that wasn't poisoned or explosive in years. Three was holding a package wrapped in brown paper. "This was dropped off anonymously at one of our bases. It's addressed to you at, quote, "SCORPIA School for Assassination and Assorted Mischief," end quote."

Chase wondered how Pierre would take the threat of strangulation. Probably badly, but what could you do? Chase groaned. "Pierre. I'll bet you."

The doctor seemed amused. "Well then, shall we open it? I already had it scanned. Nothing we can detect."

Chase grabbed some gloves. He hadn't had to use latex gloves personally in years. The doctor grabbed a pair of his own. "Think we should call Ross?"

The doctor shrugged. "I doubt it is explosive."

They quickly opened it and stepped back, wary of being poisoned. After a few minutes of no suspicious powder, they both decided to see what it was. Chase opened it up and felt his mouth drop open at the sheer audacity of the man. Inside was the most luridly colored Grinch sweater he'd ever come across. It could have been selected a fair for the colorblind. His eyes were watering at the sheer hideousness. Chase groaned. "I think I lost a few brain cells just from being in the same room as that sweater."

The doctor was looking on with a contained sort of amusement. "Well, I think it would look wonderful with your skin. It matches the firetruck red of your face quite well."

Chase gave him the evil eye. "Shut it, you."

He reluctantly went back to the package. It was too heavy to just contain a sweater. Three was probably internally laughing his ass off, so it couldn't get that much worse. There was a file crammed in there, as well. Chase felt any and all of his amusement fade. It was the file about his family. There was pictures. MI6 had kidnapped them and buried them when he refused to cave to their demands. He had never found their bodies. Most of the file was marked out, but that didn't matter. The part with the coordinates of the unmarked graves was unredacted. He felt his pulse jump. Chase had picked out a gravesite and tombstones years ago, but there was something to be said to at least be able to bury the actual bodies of your family. On the page was a single note that almost echoed his thoughts. It was the same font and paper at Pierre's notes.

* * *

_They should have at least let you bury them._

* * *

There was no signature, but there didn't need to be one. Chase barely noticed the doctor leaving his office. It was time to call a team for the recovery.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. I totally borrowed the last reference to the island from The Devil and the Deep Blue Sea. It cracks me up every time.
> 
> 2\. Mild Hannibal references, if you can catch them. I don't consider this in-depth enough for a true crossover and Belinda Mordant can be considered an individual character or the one from Hannibal, though she is based on one of the characters from the TV show.


	43. Grave Peril

Brendan Chase had wanted to bury the remains of his family for years. He was torn between sending the _absolute shit_ , Pierre, something nice and decapitating him for sheer fucking gall. Chase figured that it was probably a common feeling for anyone who met the man. A Grinch sweater and the bodies of his family. Chase wondered how he was going to respond and Gregorovich had been absolutely no help. The man had given him an amused look and told him the gift selection, while unusual, was typical of Pierre. Gregorovich, the lucky piece of shit, hadn't gotten anything, much less a confusing and contradictory pair of gifts way past Christmas. He was currently watching the excavation team with its' many corpse dogs and equipment attempt to locate the bodies and get a relative depth before having to dig them up. Chase half expected Pierre to turn up and ask how he liked his sweater. No such luck, unfortunately. At any rate, he made sure to stay a good way back until they were sure this place wasn't rigged to blow up. Jones would definitely consider it worth the collateral damage and the spot of the forest it would wipe him out. Nile was still on vacation, but he had the rest of his security with him. It was almost odd not to have a second-in-command around. They had found the bodies. Chase sighed. Technically, it was a huge risk to come here in person, but this was something he wanted to be done right. It would be a few hours until they dug up the remains, but what was left would be little more than bone in this environment. They would have to use dental records to identify them. Chase sat back and watched the crew. What had made Pierre so cynical? Why had he given him the information? At the same time, why did he stay on the fence? There were far worse entrance points into SCORPIA than Pierre had now. The man was barely twenty if his theory was right. What had made the man lose faith in the agency he served? It usually took longer. Frankly, most of them were so self-righteous it was frightening to meet with them for an extended period of time. Pierre struck him as the opposite. He knew he was in a moral grey area and was probably enjoying the crap out of confusing the hell out of him. Curse the man. He was going to need blood pressure medication at this rate. Or he might get a complex or something. This was interesting, but, honestly, who in their right mind sent a Grinch sweater and the location of a person's dead family members for _Christmas_?

* * *

Mandy had invited him over for dinner. There was nothing unusual about that in and of itself, but Alex suspected the next dinner topic would be somewhat awkward. The parliament he voted to wait on the decision about the exchange program and the new deadline was coming up. It was being talked about quite a bit. Alex suspected Jones had delayed the vote because it would probably pass and Sarov hadn't been exactly subtle to anyone in the know. Alex was sure that he and some of his friends might be booking plane tickets to Russia for the next school year. Alex would be halfway to thirteen at the time and he suspected that the candidacy would be decided well in the future of the actual school year. He wondered if Jones would come up with enough alternates that he could avoid being entered. Ian would have a fit. Surely there were enough deviant nobility to blackmail if nothing else. Alex was pondering this as he and Tom approached his friend's door. Mandy opened up and pulled him into a hug. Alex involuntarily stiffened before relaxing into it. Mandy was still wearing her goth getup, much to Alex's amusement. "Hello there, still being a threat to society?"

Mandy was practically carrying him inside. He hated being this small. "Shut up, munchkin."

Alex grinned into her collarbone. "Why? Do I remind you of how deprived of male company you are?"

That had him dropped and whacked upside the head. "Child abuse, Mandy, really?"

Mandy rolled her eyes. "Awww, munchkin, I'm almost not glad to see you."

Alex smirked. "Oh, but you miss my good looks and stunning intelligence."

Mandy smirked right back at him. "Yeah, you're stunningly low intelligence. I'm amazed your IQ is high enough to let you breathe without assistance."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I'm amazed yours is high enough that it constitutes consent when you give it."

Tom was staring at them with a kind of horrified awe. Alex wondered if Tom needed more friends or a pet. "What have I done?"

Alex and Mandy answered at the same time. "Introduced us to the start of a wonderful friendship."

Tom paled. "Oh no, it's worse than you and Hale, much, much worse."

Alex shrugged. "Just relax and have an extra dessert, Tom."

Tom snorted at the rest of the table - James, Adrian, Nigel, Karen, Adrian, Gillian, and Richard were already there. The dinner was in its' usual set of three courses. Mrs. Teller smiled at his appearance. "How was Australia, dear?"

Alex returned her warm look. "Quite wild, Mrs. Teller."

She brought out the first course and very forcefully rejected his offers to help out. It was nice not to have to serve himself once in a while. Alex had also cooked for himself quite a bit. "How is the homeschooling?"

Alex shrugged. "Enlightening, Mrs. Teller."

She once again tried to get him to call her by her first name. It was the least tense dinner Alex had been to in a long, long time.

* * *

It was Karen's turn to call the meeting to order. "Nothing major has occurred. We're investigating some rather salacious rumors surrounding the new English hire before next year. Some of the parents mentioned that he'd resigned before he was fired."

Alex had to interject. "Isn't that usually bullying, harassment, or pedophilia that couldn't be proven in court?"

Actually, with the way Ian was, Alex could probably get him to look into it. "Which is why we want to get on it."

Mandy interjected. Karen sighed softly. "Worst comes to worst, I can put a hit on him."

Alex knew how, actually. It would be a low-level one, but still. He was pretty sure he'd identified (with Maddox's help) all the bars where it could happen. Alex could play the part of a courier. Plenty of gangs used kids because they were less suspicious, more malleable, and got lighter sentences. Everyone just stared at him. "What? I'm not letting a pedophile near the primary students."

Alex would strangle the man with his bare hands and take whatever Tulip Jones blackmailed him with before that happened. "It could be a case of poor fit with his colleagues."

Alex shrugged. "I'd love to be proven wrong."

Mandy sighed but had a fond smile on her face. "Did anyone get their hands on a police report?"

Adrian shrugged. "For what it's worth, he has no convictions. Then again, they can be bribed and they can't start anything without evidence."

Gillian sighed. "Alright, we need to bug his house and preferably get our hands on his hard drive."

Alex shrugged. "I can give getting us remote administrative access a try."

Richard perked up. "Why not? It'll save us the bugs and a B&E trip."

They moved on to other less important things before Mandy got impatient and decided to shove the conversation along. Talking over Nigel (the meeting had descended into mostly gossip at this point), she addressed Alex. "What do you think if the exchange program?"

Mandy was practically bouncing in her chair.

* * *

Alex wondered how he was going to swing this. "It's interesting. Why now, though? They could have held off for a few more years, at least in theory."

Mandy shrugged. "But isn't it exciting? The country has been closed off for ages."

Alex shrugged. "It's a nice place to celebrate Christmas or summer hols, but I wouldn't want to live there."

Mandy pouted. "You went to Russia without me?! Alex!"

Alex laughed at the pouty expression. "Sorry, Mands, Ian wouldn't even take Tom."

Plus, she might have discovered the family cult and murdered by Marion. She pouted and then paused. "Why the grotesque favoritism?"

Alex let out a sigh. "It wasn't Ian. It was Grandfather. He's really strict about family traditions and stuff."

Mandy huffed. "Rude."

Tom shrugged. "His aunt and uncle from the other side are real nasty anyway. Alex doesn't even like them that much."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It's okay, Tom, they're only physically and mentally abusive about a quarter of the time you're around them. The rest of the time, they're either teaching you advanced topics or attempting to murder each other and Ian."

Dead silence fell across the room. "Uh, dude, that's really not okay."

It was Adrian. Alex snorted with laughter. "Yeah, but they're _connected_ so the only way to get rid of them is to murder them yourself."

Mandy sighed. "This kinda why we exist, Alex."

Alex waved them off. "They mean well, but grandfather is planning on getting them psychological help."

Gillian gave him a withering look. "So basically you spend a month with your crazy relatives and hope for the best."

Alex shrugged. "I've got Ian and Gramps on my side."

Kind of. Sort of. If he could keep them from strangling each other. Tom seemed to detect his cue. "Alright, moving on. Who's applying for Russia?"

Mandy's arm shot up. Adrian and Gillian shook their heads. James snorted. "I think my uncle actually fought Russians, so I can't."

James was an orphan but raised by his elderly uncle and aunt. Nigel and Tom didn't speak any other languages fluently. Richard snorted. "I don't want to mess up my future ambitions."

Karen sighed. "My mother won't let me. Too risky, she says."

Alex sighed. "Ian's very cold war."

And, as an actual spy, Ian would likely cause a national incident before he let Alex live with 'the enemy' for nine months. "He might, but I wouldn't count on it."

Yeah, his boss might blackmail him into letting Alex go if enough snobby rich kids didn't sign up. Ian would go berserk. Alex had a feeling Gramps wouldn't care, and Yassen would be delighted to have him out from his uncle's watchful eye. Alex would have ordinarily liked to go but didn't want to have his activities restricted to the point that most children were. Mandy pouted. "If you do sign-up, I'll have daddy pull some strings so you get in."

The sentence reminded Alex that Mandy was, in fact, a teenager, for all of her intelligence. "You don't have to."

Mandy grinned. "It's okay, you meet all the qualifications, anyway."

Alex was pretty sure Tulip Jones and Alexei Sarov wielded more influence than Mr. Teller and had a much more vested interest in his going to Russia, but wasn't going to say so. "Err, thanks, Mandy."

Well, that was awkward. Nigel broke the silence. "If that's all, it's nearly midnight."

Alex shrugged and got up to go to bed.

* * *

Grim was waiting for him in his dream. An eerie specter, with the backdrop of a burning house. This time, there was more in the void. It was a garden. Alex noticed the plants at first. They were all deadly, deadly poison. "The fuck?"

Grim rolled his eyes. "Shortstack. Nice to see you too?"

It was deliberately phrased as a question. Alex flipped Grim off. Alex snarled. "What do you want, you self-serving-"

Grim threw a fireball. "Tsk, tsk. Get that temper under control."

Alex sighed. At least the fireball hadn't connected. "Now, shorty, try it again."

Alex sighed. "What do you want oh great one?"

Grim snorted. "Not an Oscar winner, but it will do."

Alex huffed. "You would think a former spy would be more subtle."

Alex picked up a rock and threw it at him. Grim didn't even have to dodge that hard. "I wish I could introduce you to Blunt. He seems to think I'm a perfect little weapon."

Grim smirked. "He's not wrong. It's just you make a better weapon than a spy. Ever tried not blowing shit up on missions? 'Cause the secret spy ain't so secret when you leave every enemy a smoldering ash pile in a smoking crater and rarely bother with hair dye or contacts."

Alex flipped him off again. "But that's the fun part."

Grim smirked. "Don't get me wrong. It's pretty awesome, but that's the kinda stuff that spreads, shortstack."

Grim motioned to the bench. "Come, let us sit."

Alex sighed and sat down next to the embodiment of death in dreamland. "Why am I here?"

Grim shrugged and plucked a flower. It was from a blooming Lily of the Valley. Grim immediately waved his hand over it, turning it into some sort of black stone. Alex scowled. "Show off."

Grim handed him the flower. It didn't feel like obsidian. "What is it?"

Grim snorted. "Black diamond. It's my stone, or, rather, one of them."

Alex figured Grim would get to the point sometime in the near future. "What are the others?"

Grim shrugged. "Garnet and moonstone."

Alex shrugged, so the myths had some truth after all. "Do you have a point you're getting to?"

Grim gestured at the flower. "Two, actually."

Alex looked at the man expectantly. "One, my compatriots tell me you're supposed to have a token to wear."

Alex huffed. "Can't you just give me a wristband or something?"

Alex knew that tokens could not be removed. "You're funny, shortstack. Tokens are a pride thing. I can veil it to all eyes but yours, though."

Alex huffed. "That would be nice."

Grim took his right hand. "I figured you'd want a bracelet since a ring would mess with your knife work."

Alex groaned. "It's like we're getting bloody engaged. Just fucking do it."

Grim smirked. A black ring made of solid diamond appeared on his wrist. Grim frowned. "Too plain."

The ring morphed on his arm. "It'll grow with me?"

Grim gave him a look that questioned his intelligence. The ring now had garnet and moonstone inlay. It was a lily with a wave design in red. The lily was almost like a real lily. The detail work was physically impossible for a human craftsman at the moment. "Why a lily?"

Grim smirked. "Well, you are a virgin, snookums."

Alex attempted to remove his hand to punch Grim. Grim chuckled. "They symbolize death, you stupid shit. I don't actually care who you fuck or if you fuck."

Alex sighed. "The red river should be obvious enough."

Alex raised an eyebrow at Grim. "Right."

Alex wondered of Grim was ADD. "What was the other thing?"

Grim sighed. "Do you want to save crazy, obsessed-with-you, and Russian?"

Alex looked at Grim. "Sarov or Yassen?"

Grim snorted. "It's a little sad when you have to ask which blond Russian stalker I mean."

Alex growled. It was a sensitive topic. "Shut the fuck up, Grim."

Grim sobered up. "I mean Sarov, shortstack."

Alex sighed. "Yes, I do."

The man had offered him a family, or at least his version of it. Alex had never really been offered that by anyone else who meant it that sincerely. Grim put a hand on his shoulder. "Then you have to go to Russia."

Alex turned into Grim. "What do you mean?"

Grim sighed. "It's the only way he stays sane. Go to Russia, be his son for nine months. I'm sorry, I looked into the different futures every way I know how."

Alex groaned. "What about Ian? What about the rest of it?"

Grim shrugged. "You can have the bank send your messages to you electronically. It can wait a year, for the most part. And your uncle is a grown, fully-trained adult. Let him fend for himself a year."

Alex glared at Grim. "I hate you sometimes."

Grim smirked. "No, you don't."

Alex wondered how Grim knew. The bracelet wasn't uncomfortable like the few he'd worn before. "Craftsmanship. You were wearing cheap shit. This one ain't."

Alex sighed. Grim was irritating when you forgot how he could read minds. Alex lay his head against Grim. "I thought this would be simple."

The man's unearthly hand gently patted him. "Life is always tiring, shortstack."

Alex sighed. "And now I have to live forever."

Grim huffed. The man was ice-cold. "Just do messages. Enjoy the one year you can spend as a kid. Sarov will actually be parental, you know."

Alex remembered something. "This is the year Grief starts his sicko replacements."

Grim shrugged. "Your family will be in trouble soon, too. I recommend you take care of the crazies at the same time. Remember your aunt's greatest wish."

Alex groaned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Alex was flung out of the void into consciousness.

* * *

Alex shot up in the guest bed he was currently resting in. It took him a minute to get his bearings and not throw up from the dizziness. He felt his right arm. The bracelet was on his arm, just a beautiful as in the dream. It was a masculine piece of jewelry, thank goodness. It would be way worse to be stuck with a woman's bracelet. His aunt's greatest wish...what would that mean? Marion had always wanted a compatriot in his mother. Meaning Alex by proxy if she couldn't have the original. So what was Grim telling him? Rescue the family first and then go get the rich kid(s)? That would make sense since Marion could call for backup if things got shady. Alex shrugged. Grief hadn't planned to kill them until his plan was complete (around three years). Julius had been from the youngest batch when Grief had nearly completed his plan. Alex looked at the clock and cursed. Even Mrs. Teller wouldn't be up for another hour. Alex knew he wasn't going to get back to sleep. He set to practicing after his warm-up. He had plenty of time for his two-hour workout. Breakfast wouldn't be ready for at least two and a half hours. Alex decided to try some meditation exercises before he did actually warm-up. As much as he hated meditation, it had its uses. After about a half hour, he was bored and began his warm-up. He did like the extra think-time. Alex finished his practice with barely enough time to shower and change into his spare set of clothes (he usually kept several on him in his backpack). Mrs. Teller looked at his freshly showered form oddly when he was the first down the stairs. Alex was starving. "Just finished my morning workout, ma'am."

Mrs. Teller placed his plate down in front of him a few seconds later. Ian barged in slightly later than stupendously early, but with the same impatient energy. Mrs. Teller shoved a plate into his hands before yelling for the rest of Alex's friends. Ian looked stupefied at the amount of unhealthy food on the said plate. Alex gave Ian the evil eye. "Thank you, Mrs. Teller. It looks delicious."

Ian actually managed to sound convincing, so Alex was pacified. Alex wondered what was going on. Ian was usually a little savvier than this. Tom was patient enough to wait until the car and that was about it. "What's going on?"

Ian lied smoothly. "Marion is having medical issues. I'll give Alex a few more details in private when we get home."

Translation: Marion and Darian are captured. I'm going to threaten Alex in private to let his dear old grandfather go on his own to retrieve their sorry, incompetent asses.

* * *

Alex immediately scowled at both of his adult relatives. Patrick was the first to speak up. "I shall be departing to rescue my children soon. Ian, I expect you to look after the children."

Alex glared at the man. "You're going alone?"

Alex didn't mean to make it sound like the man was incompetent or anything, but Patrick was old. Alex didn't really feel comfortable sitting at home while his aunt and uncle were possibly being tortured, either. "I can look after myself, Alex."

Alex sighed. "I didn't mean it like that."

It was one of the few times he had actually blushed. "Err, don't you think it would be educational to take me?"

Alex tried, with the most innocent expression he could possibly manage. Ian looked like he was about to explode from the sheer rage. Patrick looked amused. "Educational in the art of child abuse, perhaps. No, Alex, you will not be coming with me."

Alex huffed. It had been worth a try. "Jason and Lily shall not either."

Alex mentally groaned. Welp, there went the rest of his argument. Ian looked pacified for once. There went all of his legal options. Luckily, he had some fake papers. Yassen might not be willing to help him, but Tara or Frank was psychotic enough to not care about his age. Maddox would help him find his aunt and uncle and whatever else he needed. Marion was pretty malleable in terms of what she would constitute 'family activities' and Darian was pliable in general. He would probably only take his aunt. Marion struck him as the more overprotective and secretive of the two. She would keep a secret. "Right."

Is what came out of his mouth. Ian didn't look like he bought Alex's lack of argument. "Alex, so help me, if you leave the country on some sort of misguided rescue attempt-"

Alex tuned out the rest of the lecture. What was Ian going to do? Ground him? He was mentally eighteen. It wouldn't exactly be a punishment that would affect his behavior. Patrick was eyeing him with a mixture of amusement and suspicion. Fenrir was sticking a massive paw under the door since Alex was late for their walk. Ian saw where his eyes had flicked to. "You're not listening to a word I say, are you?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't leave the country. Blah, blah, blah. Don't rescue your aunt and another uncle. Blah, blah, blah. Or else. Blah, blah, blah. Can I go now?"

His deadpan expression was worthy of Yassen. Ian sighed. "I suppose."

The two let him go with a glance at each other.

* * *

Ian Rider's first mistake was to assume Alex would actually obey him. His second was allowing Alex to walk his dog by himself. Alex entered the familiar bunker. "Maddox?"

The computer hologram appeared. "Yes, Alex?"

Alex saunters over. "I assume you know what happens next."

Maddox sighed (as much as a hologram could sigh). "You're going on a harebrained rescue mission and a trip to stop the insane doctor."

Alex grinned. Maddox knew most of what he did, if not how, and his goals regarding the knowledge. "Got it in one."

Maddox began uploading information into his third phone. "You'll want this, then."

Alex heard a shuffling voice behind him. "You aren't going without an adult, are you?"

Alex mentally groaned. Of all the times for Captain Brandon to appear, why did it have to be now? "Maybe. What's it to you?"

Brandon grinned. "Got a room for one more on the crazy train?"

Alex snorted. It wasn't a bad idea. "You get that you'll basically be kidnapping me, right?"

Brandon shrugged. "You'll go either way, so it's better if I come. Besides, your guardians know that you're a bit of a manipulative little shit, so I'll hardly be blamed."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "That's not how international law works."

Brandon growled. "Well, that's how this is going to work, so the international law can shove it. When do we leave?"

Alex stared. "Don't you have a job?"

Or a life? Or a pet? Or something? Brandon shrugged. "Dear Boss, due to some unavoidable family issues, I need to resign."

Was the Captain's retort. There was no way Alex was going alone. "Doesn't he know your family is dead?"

The man shrugged. "I haven't told him."

Alex huffed. "Fine. You can come. I'm in charge."

The computer began whirring. "Your boarding passes are printing now. They match your fake second set in the bank in Switzerland. You're welcome."

Alex grinned. "Aw, thanks."

Maddox sounded disapproving. "Do be careful, gentleman."

Alex smirked. "Am I ever not Maddox?"

Maddox made another whirring sound as the hologram moved. "I'm not even going to dignify that with an answer."

* * *

Alex and Brandon boarded the train to Switzerland close to dusk. Fenrir was padding silently along with them. "Are you sure we should take the dog?"

Alex shrugged. "Maddox must have included the documents for him for a reason."

Brandon shrugged. "Aren't we breaking some sort of quarantine law?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at the man. "Right, never mind then."

Technically, they were about to break all sorts of laws. Quarantine would be the least of them. Alex got to the bank and told Charles to wait in the lobby. Alex grabbed a few documents and had a bit of money transferred into the current Japanese currency. It should be enough for the few days they were going to be there. He slid it into his backpack and got out some of the metal devices to deposit. They had metal detectors at the airports. The rest of his stuff looked innocuous enough to pass an inspection. He could squeeze maybe that and an extra knife into the one X-ray proof case he had in his possession from the basement. Ian would get them from MI6 if he needed them. Alex decided to keep all three phones, but the one Ian had given him would be losing its battery for most of the trip. He stepped out into the lobby a few minutes later. "Ready to go?"

Brandon shrugged. He, like Alex, carried enough on him that a few days of spontaneous travel wouldn't be too much of a strain. "Yeah. My pack is good. You?"

Alex grinned. "Let's go. We've got a plane to catch."

Brandon rolled his eyes. He was getting old and really failing to adjust to civilian life, but that was okay. This was going to be exciting. The all-too-familiar sensation he got from just before a military strike was back. His smile may have had a slightly predatory edge. "Yes, we do."

The Zurich airport was clean if a bit crowded. Their flight wasn't until eight, so they had time for dinner. The crowds would help confuse any cameras they might come across. Alex knew that by entering a separate country, there would be an information delay. Jones would have to get the Swiss to give up their information if she discovered what names they were going by and which airport it was. Fenrir was well-behaved and, while a bit startled at his size, the staff seemed impressed by his sheer size. They didn't seem to give him any trouble, even though they didn't seem to have a cage large enough to fit him. Alex had just given them the extra plane ticket, slightly bemused. His baby was going to ride with him. Brandon just shook his head. "That mutt is more spoiled than you are."

Alex had grinned. "You bet your sorry ass, Ca-I mean, Pops."

The man rolled his eyes. "Language, son, we're in public."

Brandon managed to sound just scandalized enough for them to be actually related. The officials didn't seem remotely suspicious. Then again, the Swiss were well known for minding their own business. They had a nice dinner, nothing fancy. Fenrir had eyed his chicken so pitifully that Alex had just gotten an entire extra three breasts for him. Brandon had snorted with laughter at that. They boarded the plane, just as Alex got a text from Ian.

* * *

_-A_

_Where are you?_

_-I_

* * *

Alex wondered how to mention this. He was certain that Ian was going to lose it at the thought of him boarding a plane to Tokyo. Alex wondered how bad the next lecture was going to be. He was risking his life for his family, which was a legitimate reason in his book.

* * *

_-I_

_Not in a mountain range?_

_-A_

* * *

Ian was internally panicking. Patrick was already gone and he couldn't leave Britain without the other children. The man would _actually_ kill him for that. Alex should have been back hours ago. Where was he?

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, your ass better be home soon._

_-I_

* * *

Alex grinned. This was going to be fun. What was the worst that could possibly happen? He fingered the token that Grim had given him and sighed. For the family and his sanity. Yep, he was going to be in worse trouble than last time.

* * *

_-I_

_Sorry. I'll bring you a nice souvenir._

_-A_

* * *

Fuck. He knew exactly where Alex was. Goddamn it. Patrick could take care of himself and the other side of the family. There was no need for him to get involved. Alex was turning into him. As in, a control freak.

* * *

_-A_

_Alex, when you get back, if you get back, I will kill you._

_-I_

* * *

Alex figured Ian would have to get in line. After Yassen, but before Patrick. He couldn't help the faint amusement that came from pissing Ian off, though. His uncle was normally so reserved. It was nice to know he cared.

* * *

_-I_

_Wouldn't that defeat the point of training me to survive?_

_-A_

* * *

He was going to kill that cheeky little shit, he really was. Ian tried to text him again, only to find that Alex had either turned his phone off or destroyed it entirely. Shit. Now he couldn't even track Alex, or tell Patrick where he was and have the man ship him back on the first flight to England. Why hadn't Jones' new system stopped Alex from getting on a plane? None of the airports in England should have flown him. Ian face-palmed. Switzerland. Alex had probably flown from Switzerland. Welp, they were screwed. All he could do was wait. Jack looked at him expectantly. "Alex did a runner to go see his ill aunt in Japan."

Starbright smiled. "He's a sweetie, isn't he? I'm glad one of you cares enough to visit. You could hardly expect him to not care."

Ian supposed not. Damn it. Jack was smirking internally. Personally, she wondered why they all hadn't just gone. Really, it was kind of cruel to expect the kids not to visit. She was sure Alex would meet up with his grandfather and be fine. It wasn't as though Alex had never taken public transportation alone before and there were systems in place for unaccompanied minors in airports. She was sure Alex would be fine. Ian glared at her. "Whose bloody side are you on?"

Jack smiled. "Alex's, of course. Don't you remember hiring me?"

Yes, Ian remembered full bloody well. It had been kind of hilarious to have a civilian and future employee threaten him about Alex's safety. Her devotion to Alex was one of the reasons he hired her. They didn't even get the bleeding dog, again. Tom Harris was standing in the corner, looking less than alarmed. "He'll come back. You'll see."

Ian wanted to gripe at him. "How do you know?"

The Harris boy smirked. "Because if he was running away forever, he would've taken me to, you know."

Ian relaxed slightly at that. At least he knew Alex intended to come back. That was his real worry whenever his nephew disappeared. Now he only had to worry about said nephew dying at the hands of an international crime syndicate. Joy. He hoped Alex liked his last few days of freedom before the grounding to end all groundings. Ian stared into the flames of the fireplace. It was one of the last few days he could run it. Crawley walked in. Ian couldn't bring himself to even greet the man. "Where's Mini?"

Ian sighed. "Gone."

Crawley stared. "Again? Bloody hell."

Ian sat back. "It is, isn't it?"

* * *

Alex had promptly turned off his phone and removed the battery. Brandon eyed him worriedly. "Just told Ian I'll be gone a few days."

Brandon sat back and looked him in the eye. Alex noticed that the man had brown eyes. "How'd he take it?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. Brandon huffed. "Right, I'll ditch you after we're done in Tokyo, then."

Alex shrugged. "You don't have to. I can probably convince Jones not to press charges."

With some persuading and maybe a future favor for his least favorite agency. Blunt might go for that deal, too. Brandon snorted. "MI6 can ruin everything overnight for people, you know. They can take your credit, your house, your car, and even your identity - not to mention your life. I am not taking that chance, Alex. Best if I go on the run now. I have your alternate number and a few leads from the computer. If it helps, I was planning on ditching England anyway. This was more like a catalyst."

Alex stared. "Well, I'll miss having you as my doctor."

Brandon smiled lightly. "It is the one thing I'm good at. I told the computer to call me if you ever really need medical attention, you know."

Alex sighed. That was risky, especially if Jones put a report out on him. "You don't have to."

The man snorted. "I want to. You're a nice kid, even if you're a little weird."

Alex felt a faint smile appear on his face. "Thanks."

The man shrugged. "Goodnight."

Alex closed his eyes.

* * *

Sometimes, when his life had been particularly stressful or shitty, he had a nice dream once in a while. They were usually based on memories. Alex recognized the scene from his early childhood. It was the house in France. He was sitting in a picturesque clearing with some of the greenest grass he'd ever seen the trees were tall evergreens. There was a faint breeze that blew out across the clearing and made a wave noise across the grass. A woman with middle-eastern features sat across from him. Perfect French came out of her mouth. " _Are you doing okay today, Alex."_

Alex had paused from gathering the brightest yellow flowers he could find. " _I usually am. What did you want today, Anmar?"_

The woman was beautiful. Her eyes were almost like amber. Her clothes were casual but expensive. Even then, he could tell from the feel of the fabric. " _To go for a walk. We can have cookies later if you want."_

If Alex had been any older, she would have set off alarm bells in his head. Anmar had never actually harmed him. He suspected she had just been lonely or perhaps unable to have children of her own. " _Okay, where are we going?"_

The woman took a deep breath and rose. " _You'll know when we get there, child."_

They had walked quietly. Alex had been unconsciously echoing her silent tread. It was almost funny how slow they were moving. They had gone to a body of water. She had picked him up and carried him part of the way there, her walk became utterly silent. Alex had been amazed at the sight of the sparkling blue water and the deer. There had been a whole heard. " _Everything needs water and so they all come here."_

Alex had gaped. " _It's beautiful."_

The woman had smiled. " _Yes, but also very dangerous. The predators know to lurk here since the deer will have to come."_

Alex had stared. " _What's a predator?"_

Anmar had smiled. " _Something that hunts a weaker thing and kills it for food."_

Alex had glanced at the water. " _Why?"_

Anmar had shrugged. " _It is the way of things. You see, a true predator lies in wait and attacks when victory is possible."_

Alex had watched with her a while. Nothing had shown up. Eventually, they had gone back and he'd forgotten about it.

* * *

Alex was jolted awake by Brandon as they served breakfast/the second dinner. He blinked a few times. "We're about to land."

Alex stretched as much as the airplane seat would allow him to. "Thanks, Dad."

The breakfast was actually pretty good. It was still airplane food, but much better than the cardboard that they usually served. It had been nearly twelve hours. In Tokyo, it was close to three o'clock. It would be about eight in the morning in Switzerland and seven in London. Eh, it was about time for him to get up normally anyway. Alex was so glad he'd paid attention in primary when they'd taught time zones. It had come in handy way too often, but still. Brandon eyed him. "I'll probably need to change some money."

Alex shrugged. "I already did."

Brandon glared at him. "Yeah, but you are _not_ paying for my hotel room and food."

Alex didn't much care either way but decided to let it go. "I'm sure they'll have a money-changing kiosk somewhere in the airport."

They had landed shortly after. Alex had read a few books on Japan, but nothing could have prepared him for the reality of the sheer amount of noise and people in and just outside the airport. The language sounded completely foreign. Neither he nor Brandon spoke Japanese. This would be interesting. Maddox had arranged for a taxi and the hotel at least. And then sent him a bunch of files to read with Brandon once they got off the plane. Alex made sure to make a note of a few things to get for people at home. No reason not to send souvenirs back. Speaking of gifts, he wondered how Chase liked the Grinch sweater and the family location stuff. Alex hadn't meant to be grotesque, but he couldn't resist the urge to send the man an ugly sweater. Let's be real, he was physically almost twelve and mentally almost eighteen. His soul would protest the injustice of not sending a hideous sweater.

* * *

Alex and Brandon sat down to read the information provided by Maddox together. They got through it in a few hours. "I'm ex-military, I did this for a living. You and the dog can stay behind."

Alex fixed the man with a glare. "I _am_ a fully trained child-assassin. With a gun. I _will not_ be staying behind."

The man lets out a long extended sigh. "Fine. Fine."

His relatives and (possible) allies were going to be buried alive tomorrow. They were currently sedated inside coffins. Alex had not questioned how the man had acquired a gun in between the airport and the hotel. Brandon had not questioned how he got a gun through customs. It was working nicely. "Now, shall we get started on the plan?"

Brandon huffed. "Fine. We need to stop the cars, preferably before the graveyard."

Alex began taking out his disguised plastic explosive. "What are those?"

Alex smirked. "You light the fuse and they go boom."

Brandon groaned. "It'll be a miracle if we both don't get arrested for terrorism."

Alex shrugged. "The engines and gunshots will give us plausible deniability."

Brandon looks at him. "What gunshots?"

Alex smirked. "The gunshots after the smoke grenades but before the real explosives."

Brandon groaned. "So gonna get arrested for terrorism."

Alex snarked. "Optimism is a gift, Charles. Now, we'll need disguises, so it's a good thing you got contacts and hair dye."

Charles sighed. It was basically a straight up ambush. "Now, we need to get the street furthest away from the police and relatively deserted."

The man sighed. He was worried. There had never been a mission like this in any of his tours. There had been no children, no possible civilian casualties, and no giant pets. They had also been in a war zone. Charles felt under-prepared and undermanned. Even Special Forces would use four people at a minimum. He wondered how spies and assassins pulled this type of thing off. They were planning to attack the cars and drag their people off in the confusion. Brandon couldn't shake the feeling that this could go horribly wrong. They had no official backing or back-up either. Brandon didn't think the dog counted. Fenrir the most wolfish dog ever. The dog was giant and had creepy yellow eyes. Brandon knew he was going to have trouble sleeping the night before, even though he'd slept through a bombing or two.

* * *

Marion couldn't help but wonder if she was actually going to die in a grave buried alive. They hadn't even had the decency to sedate her properly. Of course, they would have had to use a higher dose than normal because she built a tolerance faster than most people. Marion figured it might have to do with the birth defect that made her sterile but had never bothered to find out. She was still immobilized, but very much aware of her surroundings, as she was lowered into the coffin. Darian, the useless moron, had at least gotten the distress signal out after he managed to blow their cover. They were all being buried together on the same day as a final fuck you. She mentally sighed as the last nail was hammered into the coffin. Would Patrick come? Would he even want to? Marion would be the first to admit that she was far from the ideal relative. Darian was a bit of a drag, too. She knew that he had the kids with him. Patrick could just let them die and raise the kids to be better than her and her brother. Ian wouldn't stop him. Alex. Alex would. Marion had a feeling he would come. She let her thoughts drift to Helen's son. So much like her. The nose and the stubborn set of his lips when she argued with him. The tilt of his head with a question. Oh, Alex. Marion wondered where he was at the moment.


	44. Combustion and Chicanery

Alex and Charles were getting into position when Alex spotted his grandfather on the opposite building. Well, if he was grounded, he may as well be grounded after he did what he came to do. Alex prepared his supplies. The cars were just on time. Alex knew that as they hit spikes they hadn't seen. Patrick must have set them. Alex tossed a whole bunch of smoke grenades on them and then began to move in while Charles fired. Alex wasn't sure if it was him, Patrick or Charles, that was getting the fatal shots. Since they were uncoordinated, they often ended up hitting the same people. After the smoke cleared, Alex waited a few moments before deciding it was probably safe to approach. His grandfather was on the other side of the car, and, boy, did he look unhappy. "We will be discussing your disobedience and lack of regard for your own life later."

Alex popped open the first coffin just as Charles came with the car. It just happened to be Marion. Alex carefully lifted his aunt from the coffin and managed to get her in the car without help. Patrick had already gotten the others back by the time he was done with his aunt. Alex mentally cheered but also cursed his physique. "We need to clear off."

His grandfather eyed him. "I'll text you my hotel address."

After he got out of Japan and onto a plane to France. Patrick must have believed him. "Alright. Take care of my daughter."

Alex shrugged. "I will."

Marion was his best hope for stopping Grief, after all. Charles drove them to the next hotel. Maddox had gotten them registered for both of them, but Alex felt it wise to change. As they were not Japanese, they stuck out in the nearly homogenous population. Marion was already stirring by the time they got there. "Are you okay?"

His aunt cracked open an eye. Alex sent Charles a look. They had already said their goodbyes. A few minutes and Marion could walk on her own. Charles got out just before she started moving. He would take the car and dispose of it before disappearing. Alex held Marion's hand as she regained most of her motor control. Marion pulled him into a hug suddenly. "Alex. The others-"

Alex interrupted. "Are fine and with Patrick."

Marion was wrapped around him. "He took you?"

Alex gave her a half smile. "Not exactly. We can talk more in the hotel."

Marion grabbed his hand and they checked in together. They were quiet in the elevator ride up. Alex decided that room service was in order. Marion didn't seem to be in any shape to go out anyhow. She kept almost drifting off and starting herself awake. Alex got the food. It was a pretty standard meal for Japan. Alex had gotten that far in the guidebook. Marion was being surprisingly patient. He slid her meal towards her.

* * *

Marion seemed a lot better after she finished her meal. "So, what's going on?"

Alex huffed. That was just insulting. "I wasn't about to leave the whole rescue to Patrick."

He refused to. This was his family, too. She glanced around the room. "Where is everybody?"

Alex shrugged. Showtime. He needed help for this. Plus, this was the only time alone they had. The children were safe enough in London. It wasn't Afghanistan. "Patrick's with the others. Everybody else is in London with Ian."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "And the man you were with?"

This family would be the death of him. Then again, he would have questioned it, too. Alex snorted. He was not, however, about to throw one of his few allies to the sharks he called family. "We won't be seeing him again. This was a one-time thing. Plus, Ian would go berserk on him."

Marion smiled slightly. The child wasn't wrong. Ian was many things and extremely protective (when aware of a threat or perceived threat) was one of them. "True."

Something just seemed to register with her. "You two left my kids with _Ian_!"

Damn the family feud. It wasn't _that_ bad. Alex sighed. "No, Patrick left your kids with Ian. Don't worry, Jack will look after them." Marion let out a slight hiss. Alex had a feeling dear old Gramps would be paying for that later and would find a way to make him pay at the next family reunion. "Besides, we have bigger problems."

Marion glared. "We? You haven't even told me what you want yet."

Alex was tempted to pray to a higher power. Then, he explained about Grief. This was nerve-wracking. He didn't actually know his aunt that well. Marion listened to him. "Why didn't you tell Ian?"

Alex gave her a look. "You believe me, then."

Marion smiled slightly. It was a distinctly feral, twisted look. "It's not completely out of the realm of technology or human nature."

Alex smiled. He was aiming for charming with a hint of pleading. "You won't let poor helpless me go to France all alone, will you?"

Marion melted instantly. "Of course not, dear." Helpless her foot, but she wanted to go with him. It was the mission and partner she had wanted for the past ten years. Marion sighed. She was tired. "We can plan in the morning."

Alex had just conveniently forgotten to text Patrick. He was so getting punished for this later, but the madman needed to be stopped. The old man would probably leave his not texting until morning.

* * *

Patrick Beckett was rarely surprised, but these past two days seemed to be the exception. Alex. He was torn between wanting to strangle the brat and wanting to reward him. First, his grandson had shown up at a rescue attempt he was supposed to be a world away from. Then, he'd had to answer Ian Rider's increasingly frantic messages. That man didn't seem capable of going twenty-four hours without knowing where his nephew was and what he was doing. Or even eight. That man had a certain stubborn streak. Plus, he refused to go to therapy for the loss of his brother. At any rate, he was thinking of his grandson. He'd inherited the family stubborn streak after all. The brat had gone and lied to him. Little shit. The address he'd been texted in the morning had been the hotel he checked out of. Marion had, for whatever reason, gone AWOL with him. Ian had been beyond anger and seemed to tantalizingly present him with the opportunity to watch the man have a stroke before he regained his sense of control. Damn. Patrick had so been hoping for it. Then, he would have custody of Alex. The man wasn't even good for keeping Alex contained long enough for the boy to grow up. Grr. Now they had no idea where either one of them was. He would just have to have faith in his daughter, Patrick supposed. Marion was ruthless in the defense of her family. Alex could be equally destructive in his own right. What on Earth were they doing? Why did neither of them _answer the fucking phone_? Marion and Alex had disabled the bugs and tracking devices. There had to be a good reason, but Patrick couldn't think of anything that would require keeping it from him. Darian had been as apathetic as usual and the others were in no shape to go chasing after two uninjured and highly trained members of his family. Nor should they. This was technically an internal matter. He needed to get them back home. Darian would just have to come back to the house and they would have to wait with Ian. It was infuriating. At the same time, it was touching that Alex would come all the way to Japan and rescue them. The news indicated that there were no leads and the surveillance camera footage and license plate numbers had conveniently vanished from all records. Patrick was impressed. Lacking in computer knowledge, his ass. Alex had better have a good reason for the stunt he was pulling.

* * *

Marion Beckett was on the plane with her nephew to France. It was unexpected, to be sure, but not unwelcome. Said nephew was currently sleeping away with his head on her shoulder. Alex wasn't old enough for his head to actually be heavy. It was nice to have him here, just the two of them. She had coveted this for so long, Marion wasn't sure it was actually happening. It could be a dream. Helen had just been gone for so, so long and there had been no body to bury. Alex's hair was such a soft pale blond. She knew running her hands through it would wake him and resisted the temptation. The child really did look so adorable and harmless asleep. Marion knew he was capable of murdering everybody on the plane if he wanted. She smiled and began to read her newly purchased book from her new backpack with her new personal items. The mountains in France would still be in frozen this time of the year. At least there would be plenty of snow sports. Their main issue was getting there. It was surrounded by snow on a mountain. Hauling both themselves and their gear would be exhausting and they would have to camp out of eyesight. A helicopter would be unfortunately ostentatious. Not to mention, her skills were not really good enough for a helicopter air battle, especially recovering from her little capture. They would probably end up having to head up on one of the supply helicopters and break-in at night. Unfortunately, the next one didn't launch for another two weeks. It was better than the month it would have been otherwise, but it left her feeling antsy. Marion was feeling under-prepared, but she didn't want to show it. Alex needed her, after all. Adults were supposed to be the confident ones. They would have to rely on stealth. Even then, it was twenty-eight on two. Twenty-seven if the surgeon wasn't there or didn't want to fight. Marion had seen worse odds but didn't really want a mass-murder for her and Alex's first mission together. Unfortunately, he seemed adamant on taking care of this himself. She should really sedate him and send him on a plane to London, but she didn't want to. This was just him and her and she had never liked sharing. Ah, the good old days when she'd threatened to gouge her brother's eyes out for taking her toys. The faint twist of her lips really said it all. She would do this with just Alex and that would be that. It brought a whole new meaning to blood ties.

* * *

Marion simply carried Alex out of the plane when he didn't wake up during the landing. Alex and two backpacks were not _that_ heavy. She expertly carried him through customs and could barely contain her squeal of delight every time she was referred to as his mother. 'Twas what the fake papers she had gotten said, so she went with it. Truthfully, she'd envied her sister's ability to reproduce. She had been so, so angry when she'd had the news broken to her by the doctors. He wasn't hers, but, oh, how she wished it were so. A part of her was screaming at her to take him away and just leave everything behind. Her adopted children were wonderful, truly. Marion tried to keep a can on it, but she knew it was going to be difficult. Alex was the kid that could have been hers if she had ever found a man she could stand and had the ability to have children, but those were details. Marion carried him to the hotel room, as well. Alex had some very dark circles under his eyes. Clearly, he needed the sleep. Changing time zones probably hadn't helped either. Alex began stirring just as she was about to set him down. Curse her back for not being able to take his weight for longer. Marion really enjoyed carrying him around. She sat down with him in her arms. Alex clung to her, even when he was asleep. It was nice. Marion felt, rather than saw, her nephew open his eyes. The lashes grazed her collarbone. "Where are we?"

Marion kept holding him. "A hotel near where the mountain range we need to be in, dear. The supply helicopter takes off in this city."

Alex grimaced at the taste in his mouth. "What time is it?"

Marion glanced at the clock. "Late morning. Are you hungry?"

It was lucky how the flights and time changes worked out, she supposed. Alex shifted. "Yeah, kind of."

Marion smiled. "Well, after we shower, how about some brunch?"

Alex grinned. This was going to be fun. Minus the murder. "Sure."

Alex even had an idea of what to order. Delicious crepes never failed to put him in a good mood. It would be one of the few times he ever rushed his shower. Marion looked at the walking shag rug her nephew called a dog. "I suppose a trip to the butcher will have to be squeezed in. I hope you like snow."

The dog eyed her with its creepy yellow eyes. There was still a few inches of it outside. The rug- sorry, the dog- seemed to shrug before stretching and jumping on the bed. It seemed to take up the whole thing. Marion shook her head. "Furry rat."

The dog just looked at her smugly.

* * *

Alex felt like laughing himself sick when he got out of the shower to Marion attempting to get Fenrir off the bed. It was kind of hilarious. She was currently threatening him with dismemberment. Fenrir barely batted an eyelid before going back to sleep. Marion seemed to have given up on verbal threats at that moment and began attempting to subtly shove him off the bed. Alex just barely kept the shit-eating grin off of his face. Barely. Alex knew that his baby was not about to move until he had a few hours of sleep. "He's not moving."

Marion glared. "Isn't this _your_ dog?"

Alex shrugged. "My poor, poor baby needs his sleep, too, you know."

Marion's unamused look was not nearly as terrifying as Yassen's. "I'll be out in fifteen minutes."

Alex shrugged and decided that texting Yassen was probably in order.

* * *

_-A_

_Afternoon._

_-C_

* * *

Yassen glanced at his phone. Why had Alex gone to Switzerland, Japan, and France in a seventy-two hour period? That was more suspicious than _his_ travel patterns and he was an _actual_ criminal. Yassen turned on the news and felt his eye twitch.

* * *

_-C_

_You better not have exploded that street in Japan_

_-A_

* * *

Alex grinned. Time to blame it all on Gramps. That was what family was for, after all. Plus, if it was up to Gramps, it would have been all his fault anyway. He plonked himself down next to Fenrir and typed

* * *

_-A_

_It was all the other family this time. Shocking, I know._

_-C_

* * *

Yassen felt his lips twitch. Well, Alex did have quite the overachieving family. Besides, he was sure Ian would have kept his _darling_ nephew out of the real action. Although, he did have a few questions for Alex, come to think of it.

* * *

_-C_

_Why did Alec send Chase a Grinch sweater and his family?_

_-A_

* * *

Alex grinned. So, Chase had bitched about it to Yassen. Figures. Well, there really was only one point to sending a gift like that. Alex loved messing with those guys and it was absolutely hilarious.

* * *

_-A_

_To confuse the ever-loving shit out of him. Why else?_

_-C_

* * *

Yassen smirked. Alex was baiting Chase then. Shocker. It was only a matter of time until someone wrung the other's neck. Sending that was the operational equivalent of taunting someone in a game of tag.

* * *

_-A_

_And here I thought you might be making a political statement. Congratulations, by the way. You now have the undivided attention of one SCORPIA board member. Quite the achievement, if you don't want to live until you're thirty._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Score one for team Rider. Sure, this might shorten his life expectancy considerably, but it was so much fun. Plus, Chase needed a few more grey hairs. He looked way too laid back for his job. Of course, Jones' picture could be a few years old.

* * *

_-A_

_Oh, but Yassen, life is too short anyway. Besides, what would you do without me brightening up your life?_

_-C_

* * *

Yassen glared at the phone. No sense of self-preservation. At all. Cossack wasn't sure why he bothered some days. He was technically on break, but actually about to go teach his apprentice.

* * *

_-C_

_Avoid the extra cost of testing my resting blood pressure every few weeks._

_-A_

* * *

Alex laughed and knew that was the end of the conversation for a while. He snapped his phone shut and put it away. There was still a few minutes before he had to be ready to go. Marion was just getting out of the shower (he'd heard it shut off). Fenrir looked massive on the bed, which was a queen size. The room seemed to be made of wood and was quite warm, despite the fact they were using a wall heater instead of central air conditioning. The wallpaper was vaguely floral, but was either old or deliberately faded. The couch and bed were made of wood, as well. The walls seemed to be the old-school plaster type. The curtains were floral as well, giving the room an effeminate feel. The lock on the window was heavy, maybe even cast iron. The glass looked thicker than normal. The floors were actual hardwood with some carpets placed strategically on top. The desk and chair were made of some sort of dark wood. It was a nice, cozy sort of place. It seemed rather quiet for a hotel. Was the snow muffling the sound? There would still be more noise inside a building. It was quiet. Alex knew it couldn't all be the snow and the morning. This may not be London, but places with people should have actual noise. Actually, this didn't seem like a hotel. It was more like the timeshare James had moved into when he'd left his aunt and uncle's house to go to a different school. That was odd, why would he need to move out? Something about needing to manage estate soon. It hit him like a box of rocks. Alex felt like a terrible person when he realized that it meant Jamie's uncle and aunt were both close to dying in the last life and he'd just vanished off to America. He would do better this time. And maybe not argue so much with him all the time. Still, Jamie was fun to wind up, even as an adult. Alex liked him, though. Jamie was like having your own personal sparkler. A nice change from the posh politeness that seemed to permeate every corner of society. In the words of his former (current?) friend, sometimes you should really just flip people off instead. Alex felt a faint smile appear on his face as he thought of James. They would really have to meet up again soon, even if he was grounded.

* * *

Charles Brandon was on the run. It was exhilarating. He missed having some of his old life back. Sure the crummy places to stay were bad, but the medical issues he got to treat on the dodgier side of the law were a lot more interesting than fifteen diagnoses of the common cold like he'd had to deal with back at the clinic. Methamphetamine, guns, other assorted issues. Hell, even STIs at a brothel (don't ask) was better than treating the goddamn cold. It usually began with something along the lines of Hey, you know medicine, right? Charles knew that question would one day end poorly for him, the patient, or both. He met a lot of dodgy people. Apparently, the new (much stricter) laws on having to report gunshot wounds and drug overdoses to police had really clamped down on people's illegal treatment options. Most doctors weren't willing to risk their license for that sort of thing. It usually meant a lot of poor people in bad neighborhoods would die. The richer end of the criminal element could, of course, afford their own medical care. Brandon was just glad he had the foresight to take his tools with him everywhere. There was no telling how one would get surgical equipment in rural Malaysia. The current person that (he assumed) was in charge seemed glad to have him and didn't ask too many questions about why a European doctor was not in Europe doing medicine for rich people (comparatively speaking). People tended to pay him on the barter system, but Charles didn't really mind. The food was actually really good and the tools and local money came in handy. He wasn't that picky about his living conditions (so long as they were livable). Brandon had decided that getting out of Britain was best. Tulip Jones gave him the creeps and had already had the rest of his family murdered. Alex traveled a lot and there were only so many times you could visit the bunker before you got bored. He'd taken a few guides on medicinal plants around the world. The author had written under either a pseudonym or no longer used his real name. Even so, the books were enormously helpful and came with pictures accurate enough to show illiterate villagers who wanted to help. It wasn't all calm. It wasn't all cookies and sunshine. But, it was more real then he'd felt in a long, long time.

* * *

Nile was enjoying his Gregorovich-free vacation quite a bit. He was also deliberately ignoring his new Blondie obsession, for now. It was nice to just have time to himself for once. No people watching him. No weird requests from his boss at three in the morning. As much as he liked his job, vacation was always a wonderful option. SCORPIA could live without him for a few weeks. It was one of the good things about working for them. They had more than one 'top operative,' so your vacation and medical care almost never got cut short. Sure, they usually wanted you to be relatively productive, but you could crash for a few days and then start up whatever you wanted to learn. Nile was going for a scuba review. No one had ever said that diving had to be cold and miserable. He'd gotten a warm ocean, thank you very much. Cossack might swim in sub-zero oceans for fun (crazy the whole country, _Russians_ ), but he didn't. Climbing and other aerial sports were out. Nile had an unfortunate fear of heights after one of his (pre-SCORPIA) missions (for a drug cartel) had gone poorly. The CIA had decided that tossing him out of a helicopter a few times was the way to go and he hadn't been able to enjoy anything high ever since. He _could_ climb and had before, but he couldn't seem to kick his fear of heights. SCORPIA had been the ones to rescue him. His fear had even gotten him the ranking of second in the class, although he'd outscored the others by far. Then Julia Rothman had taken him and killed his other classmate before they graduated. She had loved needling him about always being second in the class. God, how that messed up woman operated. He could admire the sheer fucking gall, but at the same time, being unpopular had gotten her killed. Nile had learned never to mess with a board member ever and that Rothman was kind of a bitch - not that he ever said so aloud. Even dead, calling another board member names could get you killed. It was not so much that they had fond memories of each other; it was more about the respect factor. Nile leaned back and attempted to relax on his vacant part of the beach.

* * *

Alex Rider was thoroughly enjoying his unexpected vacation in France. Marion was a lot more hands-on than Ian. She was also going nuts with the physical training, but it was kind of fun with her. Ian was very, very serious all the time. Plus, Alex wasn't paranoid about _Marion_ questioning his skills too closely. She had only seen him a month in ten years, so she had little to no frame of reference. Marion was also taking him to see some pretty nice things. His aunt absolutely insisted he not try to pay for anything and had been quite amused at the fifteen minute argument that resulted in Alex feeling slightly put out with her. Her brown eyes had sparkled with amusement as she argued that as the richer adult of the group she should pay. Alex had retorted that he was currently a male family member, only to be treated to Marion's fifty minute Ian-esq lecture on customs around the world about who should pay when and why. When they weren't trying to take each other's heads off, they had a startling amount in common. Alex had nearly slipped twice and called her Ian. Luckily, she didn't seem to have noticed. Marion was being pretty nice, all things considered. Alex would have cut her some slack if she had a meltdown or two after almost being buried alive. But nope, she seemed completely fine while conscious. Alex noticed she wasn't sleeping all that great, but wasn't sure how to bring it up without getting stabbed. Marion was, shockingly, a contact sleeper. It was usually the opposite, but considering that he slept with a giant dog every night, Alex couldn't really talk. Marion had shaken her head and smirked, but allowed his baby in bed with them. Which was good when the heater conked out on them halfway through the night. Alex figured that was why she let him stay there in the first place. They'd both also gone skiing. Surprisingly, his muscle memory only needed a bit of a warm-up to kick in. They were currently on top of one of the more challenging slopes. " _Ready to lose, Auntie?_ "

Marion's grin was rather feral as she answered back in equally fluent French. " _Lose? I'm going to win, Sweetie."_

Alex pushed off. She still weighed more than him, strictly speaking. " _Race you to the bottom!"_

Alex felt himself yell and the white began to race past him. The trees were beginning to blur as well. Alex pushed himself to go even faster, knowing his aunt was close behind. She shot past him when he moved left to dodge a tree, just barely avoiding said tree herself. Alex went faster himself, trying to make up for their weight difference. Marion had picked a path with more trees and ended up slowing down because of it. Alex just barely tied with her before a dude came up to them, huffing. "That was crazy, my dudes."

Americans. Well, he just hoped this went better than the last time he met them. As in, the time he died. Marion's tight grin was a little on the predatory side. The guy continued. "You guys training for the Olympics or something?"

Alex burst out laughing. "Nah, we're just on a ski vacation. You?"

The blonde grinned. "Same. I wish I could try out, but I tweaked my knee on a jump. Docky said not to ski for another week, but I figure I'm fine. What the old man doesn't know won't give him a stroke, yeah?"

Marion looked like a cat who had been dipped in water as the guy started drifting with them towards the snack bar. Alex was giggling internally. A very mature, manly giggle. Alex decided to interrupt the man deluge of facts including his medical details (Alex did not need that mental picture involving his tendons) and his many, many extreme sports hobbies. Good God, all they needed was whatever had gotten the man that amount of money. Parachuting is expensive. "Err, what's your name?"

The blond grinned. "Oh, sorry. I always forget that part. I'm Fynn."

Alex already had him pegged as the perfect irresponsible adult to call if he ever wanted to BASE jump again and Jerry wasn't available. "I'm Alex. The lovely lady is Marion."

Marion huffed. "Alex, sweetie, no matchmaking."

Fynn gaped. "I wouldn't say the kid is bad at it, ma'am."

Fynn shot his (admittedly attractive, bit _still_ , gag) aunt's figure an appreciative stare. Alex gave him the evil eye, even as Fynn managed to stop himself from staring for too long. They got to the snack bar just as Marion seemed to be warming up to Fynn. Or rather, Fynn's incredibly fit physique. Marion batted her eyes at him. Oh, no. What had he done? Fynn was going to die. "Why, thank you."

I mean, he was a little talkative, but that didn't mean Alex wanted him dead in a ditch somewhere after his aunt was through with him.

* * *

After Fynn gave both of them his number and decided that the perfect way to cap off eating a bunch of food was skiing to the valley to order more food, Alex stared at his aunt. "You aren't going to murder him after you finish flirting, right?"

Marion burst out laughing. "Good heavens, no. It would be a shame to deprive other women of his _athletic_ figure."

Alex grinned. "Well, being pretty clearly got him places."

Marion whacked him upside the head. "Just because he might seem vacuous, doesn't mean he is."

Alex smirked. "Well, he does a good job of it, don't you think?"

His aunt's loss of the argument was apparent. Marion rolled her eyes. "Well, dear, it can't all be guns and explosions."

Alex shrugged. "Just remember that nice little talk Gramps gave you, Fynn doesn't seem...inexperienced."

Marion rolled her eyes. "I am in my thirties, nephew _dearest_."

Alex grinned. "Cougar."

Marion placed her fork down with more force than strictly necessary, but her eyes danced. "Insolent brat."

Alex's eyes were sparkling. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

Marion snorted. "Yes. I blame Ian. It works wonders."

Alex smiled at her. "But Marion-"

Marion snorted loudly. "I still haven't forgiven dad for leaving my kids with Ian. They might come down with a bad case of patriotic fervor."

Alex felt himself laughing so hard at that he was actually crying. Marion smacked his arm. "I'm serious."

Alex gave her a look. "So am I. I don't think three whole days is long enough for brainwashing. Besides, Ian isn't the best at inspiring loyalty to one's country. I mean, look at me."

Marion huffed. "Well excuse me for being concerned. I just don't want my kids shipped off to get shot in some foreign war."

Alex rolled his eyes. Marion. "No worries. I'd help you kidnap them back from Blunt."

Marion ruffled his hair affectionately. "Good, Alex."

It was like having a crazy pet panther, really. You just sat back and watched people get eaten and hoped you weren't next. That, and Marion seemed to think kids were a cross between people and pets. She was definitely a little weird. Although, he did have an errant thought or two. "Wait, so are you meeting Fynn or not?"

Marion snorted. "After your bedtime and at his place."

Alex shrugged. "Wait, why'd he give us both his number?"

Marion smirked. "Perhaps he scared off all of his 'bros' by sleeping with their girlfriends."

Alex sighed. There were some mental images he really didn't need. They were already back at their place, at least. "Or perhaps he likes your mildly snarky company, who knows?"

Alex just stared at her as the door closed. Well, he had a few hours to himself. Skiing was kind of exhausting and the dinner didn't start until eight anyway. Alex figured he and Fenrir could take a nap together. Of course, his furball had other plans. Fenrir was valiantly trying to open the fridge and get to his dinner when Alex walked into the kitchen. He'd have noticed sooner, but he had to ditch his ski gear.

* * *

Alex chuckled as Fenrir sent him a hurt look. "Oh, fine, you furry rat. I'll feed you and then we can go out."

Marion hadn't wanted to take the dog, for fear of him getting injured. Alex actually figured the person crashing into Fenrir would take more damage but hadn't said anything. Alex sighed and began the rather arduous process of thawing several kilos of raw meat for his pet. The turntable was rather boring to watch, so he turned on the TV. "...And the motion for study abroad has passed in Parliament. The details include several trade concessions, particularly on…"

Ah, Ian was probably going ballistic at the moment. Speaking of Ian, he hadn't texted the man for a few days. Alex sighed and got out the battery. He'd have to keep this short. Ian could and would abuse his work powers to track him down.

* * *

_-I_

_Alex if you don't come home, I'm going to be really upset._

_-A_

* * *

Ian must have been worried. It got progressively worse as Alex read the messages.

* * *

_-I_

_Alex, you had better head home now._

_-A_

* * *

_-I_

_Alex, Patrick called. It's nice to know you're alive. You better not be going on that raid._

_-A_

* * *

_-I_

_You better be on the next flight back. And don't think your grandfather didn't tell me what you did in Tokyo._

_-A_

* * *

_-I_

_Alex, the others are back, except Marion. Where are you going? What are you doing?_

_-A_

* * *

_-I_

_You must be with Marion. Please tell me you two didn't go your separate ways._

_-A_

* * *

Alex grimaced. This was going to be ghastly when he got back. Ian must have figured that even Marion was better than no adult.

* * *

_-I_

_Alex, come on. One little text won't kill you. Unless it will._

_-A_

* * *

Alex felt his lips twitch a little. He could think of several times a text would have killed him. Oh, Ian. He must be frantic.

* * *

_-A_

_I'm alive._

_-I_

* * *

Alex pulled out the battery again and ditched the hotel room. It was going to be a few more days before he could go home.

* * *

_-I_

_Come home._

_-A_

* * *

Alex had no idea how much those words meant. Ian Rider knew the text was probably futile, but he'd run out of threats. The message was sent but not read and Alex hadn't kept the phone on long enough to be tracked. Darn it. Crawley sighed behind him. "Smart little bugger."

Ian felt his eye twitch. "Yes, a little too smart for his own good."

Crawley shrugged. "He'll be fine. I have faith in Mini and Aunt Crazy, survival skills-wise."

Ian groaned. "Why would he take _Marion_? It should have been _me_."

Crawley sighed. "Maybe he needed somebody whose morals were flexible or something?"

Ian huffed. "For what? Besides, my morals are plenty flexible, thank you."

Crawley just looked at him funny. "Are you _jealous_ of Aunt Crazy?"

Ian pouted. "No."

Crawley raised an eyebrow. "Maybe."

John sighed. "Ian, we aren't getting anything productive accomplished. Besides, Tulip's little block failed."

Ian huffed. "The one time I need a political favor-"

Crawley cut him off. "There's only so much we can do without it being blatant."

Ian let out a very long breath through his mouth while pinching his nose. "Alright, who have we got the dirt on, so far?"

Crawley opened a file. "We have six people so far and two in the works. There is one volunteer, your favorite friend of Alex's."

Ian growled. "If Alex would believe it, she would have totally had an accident by now."

Crawley let out a long sigh. Ian and his over-protectiveness were legendary. "On a slightly related note, Brooklands' new teacher looks a little suspect on paper. I'm looking into it."

Ian gave him a slight smile. "Thank you."

Crawley shrugged. "No problem."

Ian reached for the third file. "Oh, don't look at that."

Ian smirked. "Now, John. My clearance is higher than your clearance."

Ian sauntered over after grabbing the folder. Crawley snatched it out of his hands. "Alex has been entered. Three times, actually."

Ian saw red for a few seconds. "What?!"

Crawley sighed. "Calm down. I'm looking into it. One of these is a recommendation from Sarov, writing as Mrs. Jones. One of these is written by Mrs. Jones as Alan Blunt."

Ian tried and failed to grab the folder. "And the third one?"

Crawley sighed. "Let's see. It was written by Amanda Teller as you."

Ian growled. "I'm going to kill the lot of them."

Crawley made pacifying motions. "Blunt must have put her up to it."

Ian glared at the wall. "Or she's making her move to take his spot."

Crawley sighed. "The analysts had her waiting at least four more years before she actively tried to oust him."

Ian growled. "The analysts couldn't find their asses with both hands."

Crawley unsuccessfully attempted to withhold his snort. That was a classic Ian moment. "Actually, they've gotten a lot better."

Ian gave him the evil eye. "John."

Crawley glared right back. "Ian."

Ian knew when not to argue with his coworker. "I managed to get him stamped as an alternate, but it had already gone through by the time I got to it."

Ian rubbed his eyes. "There better not be a need for one."

Crawley sighed. "I'll do my best, but if both Blunt and Sarov want this, it is out of our hands."

* * *

Amanda Teller had absolutely no regrets forging an entry for Alex as his guardian. Sure, it may be illegal, but she didn't think it was unethical. Alex _wanted_ to go. Plus, she owed him one for that incident with the knife. They all did. It had taken her weeks to be able to forge Ian Rider's handwriting correctly. Forgery was not really her specialty, but she was willing to make an exception just this once. Besides, Ian Rider was a shitty guardian. The man even set her mother's radar off and her mother was an optimist who liked to believe the best of people. She knew Alex well enough to fill out most of the paperwork. Other parts, like medical stuff, she'd had to acquire through more dubious methods. Lucky for her, Alex kept a copy of his medical records in his room. Shrapnel wounds? Twice? Alex was _so_ explaining those the minute she could get him alone. The physical fitness was not a surprise. Brain scans? What the hell? Amanda wondered how much she really knew about her friend. Fenrir was awesome, though. He'd shown her the drawers once or twice when she'd asked him (rhetorical questions). She was sad to have missed him this time around. Apparently, he'd gone to visit his sick aunt in the hospital and taken the dog with him. The only problem was, he'd done it without his guardian's permission or knowledge. Amanda knew he was in for a bunch of trouble when he got back, but couldn't really blame him. Who _didn't_ visit relatives who got hospitalized? Amanda was starting to think that Alex's family took their grudge matches way too far. Not that she had any input. Alex was pretty stuck either way. Mandy was glad she could get him away from that lot for nine months. Alex had been marked as an alternate, but, honestly, what school program didn't have at least one sick kid happen the day of? The Russians, for whatever reason, would not take anyone suddenly horribly sick. Mandy figured they were paranoid about possible biological warfare and felt that MI6 was ruthless enough to infect one of their own underage citizens to spread some sort of ghastly disease. Or perhaps they were just worried about outbreaks in general? Who knew?

* * *

General Alexei Sarov had no regrets whatsoever forging a letter in Tulip Jones' name. All was fair in love and war and this was both. Alex was not meant to be stuck in Britain for whatever his family and country wanted him for. He belonged at school, perhaps at a special school for incredibly gifted children, but at a school no less. Not that he subscribed to such thoughts on most occasions. To be fair, he was almost certain the Jones woman could handle the political fallout should this ever come to light. Ian Rider was just going to have to suck it up. Plus, rumor had it the man was a terrible guardian who should have been deposed by social services for a while now. The British certainly liked to hide their scandals. Almost as much as his countrymen. The fact that Alex was listed as an alternate was passé. Sarov could easily arrange for one of the others to contract the Measles or Mononucleosis or something long-term and highly contagious, but not permanently debilitating. It would get a candidate disqualified. Russia was very strict about its standards and new limited entry policies. It wouldn't do to have outbreaks of diseases brought by foreigners. Plus, with a disease that was liquid transmission, the Russian half of the deciding votes would be far more squeamish about exactly how the disease was transmitted. Or at least, they would be publicly squeamish. He had no doubt quite a few of them were perverts of the worst kind in private. Sarov would be the first to admit that evidence of sexuality under a certain (admittedly low, for most civilized countries) age or homosexuality of any kind would be a disqualifying factor. Drug usage was a definite no-go. They had a big enough drug problem in Russia without adding to it. They had very strict rules for people with a history of civil disobedience. Mainly, they wanted to make sure there were no bomb-wielding maniacs and no protests organized. The students would also be independently assessed by top academics in each and every aspect of their education after their own country weeded through the applications. All in all, it was an extremely rigorous process. The countries had decided that the sovereign country had final say on whether students could enter the country or not. The UN had very strict guidelines on country and border autonomy, after all.

* * *

Marion Beckett was up earlier than her nephew. It was going to be Alex's birthday soon. He was kind of hard to shop for. Weapons? Meh. Alex didn't seem to care about clothes and he didn't usually want a gaming system. Inspiration came, shockingly, from Fynn. The man was very attractive and very athletic, but hadn't seemed entirely sensitive or intelligent. He was very nice, though. Plus, he'd insisted on coming along. "So, who are we shopping for?"

Fynn put his head on her shoulder and an arm around her waist. "Alex. I'm not sure what to get him."

Fynn seemed to think for a minute. "You know, the new James Bond movie is out. He mentioned he had a collection with all of them."

Marion smiled. Oh, it was perfect. Plus, it would irritate the crap out of Ian. "That sounds perfect."

Fynn bounced toward the movie store. It was nice to have someone energetic around. Darian was something of a drag, on bad days. Patrick was getting up there. Mind you, he was still a scary bastard. The children did not really count. Fynn was already bounding for the movie section of the electronic store. Marion decided to run after him. You were only on that ski trip to France once, right? Neither of them was particularly out of breath, even though they had darted through the store. Fynn had grabbed the movie just as she had gotten there. "I like a woman who can run,"

Marion smirked as he admired her figure. She could certainly do that. "Oh, but what happens when you want to watch me run and run with me at the same time?"

Fynn looked genuinely stumped for a minute. "Run with you and then watch. I still gotta build up my stamina for skiing again. You seem to have plenty."

The cashier glanced at the mother behind them with a scandalized expression and two children and let out a cough. "For skiing, I mean, uh...most people can't go more than a few hours, ya know."

Fynn had just noticed his surroundings. Marion was cackling internally. She raised an eyebrow. "And other athletic activities, geez woman."

Fynn looked torn between appeasing her and social norms. "Thank you, it's always nice to hear."

She phrased it so he knew he was off the hook he'd imagined he was on. Fynn relaxed immediately. They walked out of the store together. Fynn was eyeing her hopefully. "Is there something you want to ask me?"

The man seemed torn. "Erm, I...umm...Could we stay in touch? I like you and the kid a lot."

Marion was rather surprised. She hadn't anticipated that. Really, she'd gotten the impression that this was more of a casual thing. Most men thought the same thing when she told them up front she couldn't have kids. Fynn started fidgeting. "You don't have to."

Marion blinked. "No, I think it's a nice idea, Fynn."

It wasn't like he was asking to marry her or anything. Fynn gave her one of those innocent radiant smiles that made him look extra pretty. "Good. So what's for lunch?"

Marion laughed. Men in their twenties and food. "Why don't I surprise you?"

It was a good day.

* * *

Fenrir had led Alex into a barely-a-path in the nearby wilderness. The furball had abruptly stopped and begun to dig. "Fenrir, digging a pit near the ski resort is bad."

The wolf ignored him in favor of ripping more snow up. Great. It was probably another body. Marion was going to kill him for messing with her day. Alex actually didn't mind his aunt dating Sporty, so long as he wasn't forced to think of the details. Fenrir yipped after digging a huge amount of snow up. Alex didn't even think it was possible to dig that much up unless you had construction equipment. "What is it, boy?"

Probably a whole family of bodies. Great, just great. Why hadn't he gone with a normal dog? Oh, yeah, he was a sucker. Fenrir climbed out of the hole and all but dragged him over, letting out intermittent whines. It was a chest. Made out of metal and frozen inside a clear (he assumed waterproof) bag in a block of ice. "What the hell?"

Fenrir gave him the evil eye. The wolf was probably trying to be helpful, in his own not quite sentient way. Why was it always him and Fenrir that got into these things? "Fine, fine. I'll take it back. I'm going to be very upset if it's a dead baby."

Alex figured he had about fifteen minutes before the reception desk was populated again (they took an hour off in the afternoon and worked later into the night). Alex sighed and picked up the ice block. He was so glad he'd done some upper body training now. The muscle mass wouldn't build like a grown man's, but it had improved his ability to carry mildly heavy objects over pretty long distances. It would be a bit of a jog to be back in time.


	45. Combustion and Chicanery Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is violence in the chapter, (including modified mustard gas) some of the imagery may be disturbing.

Marion caught him defrosting Magikarp the ice block after she got back from her morning outing with Fynn. "What is that?"

Alex shrugged. "Dunno, but Fenrir wouldn't let me leave it behind after digging it up."

The furball still looked pleased with himself. Marion stared at him. "Alex, honey, are you feeling alright?"

Alex sent a glare her way. No, he was not insane and neither was his baby. "Fenrir's stuff is normally useful."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Really? What has he found so far?"

Alex shrugged. "A weapon and a dead body."

The bunker technically counted as a weapon, he supposed. Marion gave Fenrir a considering look. "He's not a husky mix, is he, dear?"

Alex shrugged. "Not really."

Marion touched the pony-sized dog. "So, when'd you get this puppy?"

Alex smiled at the memory. "It's been over a year."

Marion looked at the dog again. "Does he breathe fire?"

Alex snorted. "Not to the best of my knowledge, but he's given me a few surprises."

Marion looked between him and the dog and grabbed his left arm, right over the bracelet. "So, when did you get one of Death's hounds?"

Alex gave her a funny look. "He came from a British Black Ops facility."

Marion gave him a careful look. "I see. Be careful when you bargain with Death, he's got millennia of experience on you."

Why was it always Marion who figured stuff out? "Don't I know it."

Alex muttered under his breath. Welp, he was already trapped pretty darn well. Where was Aunt Crazy in the last life when he needed her? "Anyway, Happy Birthday!"

Alex opened the bag. "The new _James Bond_ movie. Thank you."

Alex let one of his genuine smiles appear on his face. Marion smiled back at him. "I'm glad you like it. It was actually Fynn's idea."

Alex opened the box to see the shiny new disk inside. "We could invite him over if you wanted."

Marion sighed. "I was hoping it would just be the two of us tonight."

Alex shrugged. "Sure. Do I get popcorn?"

Marion grinned. "Of course. It wouldn't be a movie without it and grape soda."

Alex placed it carefully on the desk. "Why grape?"

Marion shrugged. "When we were younger, the only kind of soda we got was this one kind that only came in orange or grape. It was healthier. The grape was the better-tasting of the two, you see, so nobody ever got the orange."

Alex shrugged. He couldn't really talk. The only reason he'd had chips and soda this time around was that Tom went grocery shopping with Jack. "Grape it is."

Marion grinned. "Good, let's thaw the ice block now."

* * *

The ice block was melting at its own pace. What commenced was a lot of splashing and attempts to chip at the ice with makeshift chisels. Marion splashed his arm a bit as she attempted to get the ice block to break under the force of her blow. Alex flung water at her and it ended their current attempts to get the ice to melt faster. Marion, never one to just let things go, drenched him with nearly the entire contents of the sink. Alex turned on the sink and used the ice block to spray his aunt with a blast of water. Fenrir let out a woof and tackled his aunt with his (still muddy and wet) fur. Marion cursed underneath the giant furry mass. "Alex! Get that stupid fucking furball off of me!" Alex let out a squawk of indignation before his aunt's words actually registered and he burst out laughing. Marion was almost as reserved as Ian and the idea of her swearing was kind of hilarious. Fenrir sat fully on top of his aunt and Alex felt himself tearing up and gasping for breath. He didn't seem to be able to stop laughing long enough to order his dog to get off her. His baby just looked so smug and Marion looked so ticked. The woman glared at him. "You know, the insane asylum is just down the road."

Alex felt his chest beginning to ache as he regained control of himself. "Fenrir off."

Alex knew his voice was rather breathless. Marion was now covered in either very dirty water or very loose mud. Alex wasn't actually sure how it would classify. Fenrir was looking hopefully at him. "You can have some of my dinner, babe. You like butter, right?"

Marion snorted. "That thing eats better than most humans."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, and I like him better than most humans, so it works out doesn't it?"

Marion shook her head. The boy and his 'totally not a hellhound'. Yeah, and she was a mouse. "I'm not sure whether I should be jealous or not."

Alex flashed her with a wide-eyed look that resembled a doe. Marion felt her inner resolve to be angry crumble despite herself. "Oh, but there's enough space in my heart for both of you."

Marion scowled at him but internally melted. "Sure, but the bed is another question."

Alex shrugged and got out the paper towels, only to have his arm grabbed by his aunt. "I will handle it."

Marion hated housework, but didn't feel like her newly twelve-year-old nephew should be doing it either. Alex gave her one of those warm sunny smiles. "Thank you. I'll wash the dog."

Marion felt herself smile despite having to clean up after what looked like a tsunami. Ah, children. Or perhaps it was just Alex that could somehow get one sink full of water over half of a decent-sized apartment. Nope, it was definitely children. Somehow she was definitely going to miss this when she had to give him back to _Ian_.

* * *

They were the entire way through the movie when Alex remembered his ice block from the furry mutt. Alex glanced at her with those sharp, sharp brown eyes. "Shouldn't we check on Magikarp the ice block?"

Marion glanced at him. "Why Magikarp?"

Alex grinned. "Because it'll have to go splash-splash a whole bunch before it turns into anything useful."

Marion just shook her head. "Boys."

Alex gave her a look. "I'll have you know that there are real, live girls who love Pokémon just as much as I do."

Marion snorted. "Then tell them to turn in their popularity card, but then some of your friends seem to have already gone full out dork."

Alex glared at her. "No dissing my friends. You haven't even met them."

Marion rolled her eyes. "I think my files tell me everything I need to know."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "How do you have files on my friends?"

Marion smirked. "Well, Alex, dear. It's time for an economics lesson."

Alex gave her the evil eye. "Which MI6 people do I need to get fired?"

Marion grinned. "If I told you, I'd have to find new corruptible people. It's shockingly hard to do, I'll have you know. The government salaries for support staff...tsk, tsk. Even then, most of them are patriots."

Alex let out a long sigh and pinched his nose. "I'm going to ignore my issues with everybody in the family spying on each other for a moment and focus on the task at hand."

Marion found herself eagerly reaching for the chest. It wasn't like she wasn't curious. Alex whipped around. "Don't think this conversation is over, Marion."

Marion rolled her eyes. Yeah, they'd quit spying on him when they were dead. Marion continued reaching for the chest. Alex gave her the evil eye. Marion pouted. "Any chance you'll let me open it?"

Alex kept glaring. "It's my birthday."

Marion huffed. "Brat."

Alex shrugged. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

* * *

Alex was picking the lock to the chest with Fenrir watching smugly from the corner. Marion was literally breathing down his neck and practically quivering with anticipation. "Don't you get enough excitement with your job?" Marion huffed. "Do you know how often I normally get to open mysterious chests? The answer is: next to zero."

Alex grinned. Sucks to get stuck on routine missions. Alex wasn't a volunteer, so they saved the special ones just for him. "That explains a lot."

Marion swatted him. "Plus, we have a mandatory cool-off time between assignments." Alex was tempted to snort at the idea of his aunt actually following that rule. Blunt hadn't with him, to the best of his knowledge. Then again, for all he knew, the mandatory cool-off time could be three days. Alex shook his head. There were more pressing issues at hand. He wondered why Maddox didn't text him beforehand about this. Ah, the one weakness with relying on technology. You assumed that there were electronic records of everything.

* * *

_-A_

_I don't know everything. Just everything with electronic records._

_-M_

* * *

Marion didn't say anything about his three phones, though Alex was sure she picked up on the fact. The lock _finally_ opened. Or about his mysterious text that she didn't even try to read. "How did hacking my phones go, Auntie Dearest?"

Marion scowled. "Ian's was easy, but the other two were locked up tighter than-"

Alex cut her off. "And did we learn our lesson?"

Marion cursed under her breath. "Just open the damn box already. You've already gotten the lock."

Alex gave her a look. "Fine, I won't try to break your phones again."

For some reason, he had a very hard time believing her. Alex opened the box. It was an interesting set of items. First were wool sweaters, but when Alex made to pick them up he nearly dropped them in surprise. They were softer than anything (including silk) that he'd ever felt. "What are these _made_ of?"

Marion ran her hand across the two jackets. "This is qiviut."

Alex gave her a look. "Bless you."

Marion rolled her eyes. "It's a rare type of wool, moron."

Alex sighed. "Oh, sorry, between the fifteen languages, engineering projects, and plotting against nutters who want to take over the world, I must have forgotten to brush up on obscure knitting knowledge."

Marion rolled her eyes. "It's very warm. It'll be helpful if we go with our original plan of piggybacking the helicopter. The height plus the air will make it way below freezing."

Alex laid out the jackets. "They seem a little small for adults."

Marion gave them a considering look. "Inuits, if they even made these, are typically smaller than the average person, anyway. Plus, the stitches are made to be able to stretch without too much trouble. Notice the ribbing?"

Alex ran his hands over the fabric but was still trying to get over how soft it was. "Not really, but I'm glad one of us does."

Marion shrugged. "Who do you think it belonged to?"

Alex shrugged. "No idea, but did I tell you how much of a believer in finders keepers I am?"

Marion chuckled as she ran her hands covetously over the sweater. "You can have it after we get finished."

Marion did an internal squee of joy. What woman didn't like soft fluffy sweaters? Alex pulled out what he was pretty sure were pieces of a rifle. "Is that an M1 Garand?"

Marion looked at him. "Yes, it looks like it was modified, though."

Marion carefully ran her hands over the different parts. "I'll have to test it, but it looks like they wanted a different sight on it. It'll save me the trouble of finding a decent rifle, too."

Alex looked at little mournfully at it. "It's a good gun."

Marion looked amused. "You had best stick to handguns, dear. This could break your collarbone if we aren't careful."

Alex gave it a longing look as he took out the plastic-wrapped and bagged ammunition that was still dry and looked like it could be used. "Can I at least shoot it after you test it?"

Marion's eyes were glittering with suppressed laughter. "I suppose one time, under supervision, wouldn't hurt."

Alex grinned. "If we have ammunition left over after we take down the compound."

Alex huffed. "Darn responsible adults."

The last items in the chest were a bit smaller. There were several pens that seemed a bit off in the weight department. Alex forked the over to Marion. "Ah, these are older models. The white one explodes. The blue one is a tactical pen. The red one is a poison dart."

Alex stared. "Any idea if it still works?"

Marion shrugged. "They all should. These were sometimes stocked up for years."

Alex figured he could make his own if it came down to it. "I will be testing those, as well."

Alex touched the pens. "How do you test them without using them?"

Marion flicked open the exploding one. Alex saw the triggering mechanism was a tiny switch that lit up green. "The older ones had a bit more built in. This one should be good to go."

Alex gave her it back. "Why would a bunch of old American weapons be in the mountains?"

Marion fished out the last item; it was a small unassuming leather pouch. "Probably has to do with whatever's in here."

Alex opened it. It looked like a bunch of small rocks. "What are these?"

Marion looked at them. "Uncut diamonds, if I'm not mistaken."

Alex thought they looked a bit like gravel. "They don't seem very sparkly."

Marion rolled her eyes. "Yes, dear, that's what the cutting and the polishing does."

Alex sighed. "So what do you think happened?"

Marion smiled. "What do we know about cut diamonds?"

Alex thought back to the lessons he'd once had. "Easy to recognize for any jeweler and the more valuable ones are usually registered and examined by multiple people, so they can be traced."

Marion gave him a significant look. "So, someone got paid, but they didn't want it traced." Marion decided to give him another clue. "And where do most diamonds come from?"

Alex shrugged. "Africa. Blood diamonds?"

Marion shrugged. "Most likely. Anyone who is willing to pay or receive pay in uncut diamonds is not likely to care where they came from."

Alex sighed. "Do you think we should try to find the owner?"

Marion shrugged. "Not really, they don't want to be traced, remember?"

Alex shrugged. "Alright, then."

Marion began getting out the rest of their gear. Night vision goggle for the outside. Light body armor for both of them that would go under the winter gear. Weapons. Detachable climbing gear. "Time for a stakeout."

Alex mentally groaned. This was going to be freezing and boring.

* * *

Marion Beckett had been in the snowy trees for _hours_. They were watching the guards from the trees. Alex had said there were twenty-five. On the ground outside, it was two shifts of ten. The roof seemed to have both poor visibility for those on it and five guards. Luckily, the rifle had the range to take them out. Barely, but she was a crack shot who'd grown up on that gun. It was one of the few reasons she was going to risk attempting the shots. That and the M1 was the sniper version with a better sight and a few meters of added accuracy. Whoever modified it had known what they were doing. Marion was tempted to take out the guards now but knew it was better to wait until the day they invaded. Alex had modified the plan, but now it would need a good deal of accurate timing. This was going to be interesting. Then, she would find out what Alex meant by 'maniacs who wanted to take over the world'. _Maniacs_. Plural. There were more like this Grief if that was even his real name. Marion would stand behind him for all of the threats. Alex clearly didn't trust Ian with this. Not that she could blame him. The poor misguided man might actually want to take live prisoners. In a compound where they were thoroughly outnumbered. Pssh. Ian was in intelligence for a reason. The man made for a terrible assassin. Always asking questions and second-guessing himself. At any rate, Marion planned to go on all of these little outings, child custody laws aside. Ian would have arrested her already if he ever seriously intended to. This was more than just politics for England or she would not have been as easy to sway. Greif was planning on mucking with the world and the rest of the important countries. Well, that, and she had more personal reasons to want to do this. But mostly, she trusted Alex and wanted to make sure he didn't do this alone. And he was stubborn enough to do it, as well, despite the personal risk involved with single-handedly taking on a compound. Marion was absolutely still in the tree next to her nephew. Alex was tensing and untensing his muscles next to her. He wasn't nearly as patient as she was. Then again, at twelve, he really shouldn't be. Marion felt her lips twitch. She remembered being that impatient once. It was something you had to be trained out of. Marion resisted the urge to fluff her nephew's hair. It was nice to have Alex nearby, even if he was fighting the urge to squirm.

* * *

Alex Rider was glad when their fifty-thousand-hour surveillance in the snow was done. Even with the winter gear keeping the rest of him warm, it still felt like his face was getting frozen off. Marion was making more hot chocolate. Hers was the best when she made it from scratch. Alex would have been tempted to drink it straight out of the pot, but, alas, it would burn his lips. Fenrir was perched near him. They would have to do it all in about an hour. Two days until G-day. Alex was really not looking forward to the shit-storm that awaited him back home. Marion plopped herself down on the couch. "Now, Alex, tell me about all these other threats you know about."

His aunt looked dangerous, actually dangerous, for a moment. "Um."

Not his proudest moment, but what were you supposed to do when the professional assassin aunt you had to see for family reunions was threatening you? It was _definitely_ not covered in those mixed family brochures Edward had given him. Marion was perched on the couch. "Spill. Now."

Alex sighed. "It's easier if I just send you the files. Maddox?"

* * *

_-A_

_It can be done. Are you sure you want to include_ _her_ _?_

_-M_

* * *

_-M_

_I'm planning to give her the 'for certain' files. We can always adjust the other later. Are you okay with including her?_

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Nice of you to ask. It will be done._

_-M_

* * *

_-M_

_Well, you are sentient and therefore count as a person._

_-A_

* * *

_-A_

_Nice of you to notice._

_-M_

* * *

Alex snapped the phone shut. "Check your work email."

Marion arched a brow at him. "It's supposed to be secret."

Alex snorted. "We're _related_ remember."

Marion chuckled. "Oh, _yes_ , we are."

Alex shook his head. Ian would have been way pissier. Marion began rifling through the files and Alex felt like he was physically in pain. "Ooo, you have multi-billionaires, SCORPIA board members, a few _players_ , and a politician. Naughty, aren't we?"

Marion seemed a little too happy. It was at that moment Alex remembered he'd marked a certain few members of the intelligence and criminal communities that he hadn't met in that file distinction. Oops. "Don't start planning the murderous rampage yet, Auntie."

Marion refocused. Alex wondered exactly how many metaphorical screws were loose in his aunt's head. "Oh, I wouldn't go without you."

Alex snorted. Ah, Marion. She was almost the total reverse of Ian sometimes. His uncle would have insisted that he stay behind while he took care of the problem. "The files aren't complete, mind you."

Marion flipped through one of them. "Oh, they're more complete than some of the official ones I've gotten. Meh, It'll go fine."

Alex hoped the same held true for their little Grief expedition. He took a deep breath. Two days.

* * *

The two days seemed to pass by with a nervous blur. Alex was almost too stiff in the tree he'd chosen between Marion and the compound. The helicopter would land with him on it. Marion would take out the guards and follow him up since the run was less than a mile. Alex would take out the helicopter pilot after he checked in, but before Marion shot the rest of the guards. Then, they would enter together through whatever opening was opened for the cargo. Alex felt tense. The clock on his wrist told him the helicopter should be here any moment. His grip on the device he was going to used tightened. Alex here the helicopter before he actually saw it. Then, it was overhead. Alex raised his wrist up and shot the hook out, just as the helicopter was about to pass him. You didn't shoot straight up, even he knew that. If you missed, you got hit on the head. The hook managed to land in just the right spot. Alex was glad for the automatic retraction of the device (it was similar to Smithers) because he wasn't sure he had the physical strength to climb up to the helicopter and hold on. The rope was barely better than the line he'd used from Smithers. It still bit into his side. Alex felt a breeze blast him and tried to grip the rope in a way that would not have him drag the helicopter off its flight path. It sort of worked, but Alex the rope seemed to bite into his gloves. His swears were muffled by the wind. When Alex finally got to the actual underbelly of the helicopter, it was about to land. Alex let out a few more swears and got into a horizontal position that would make sure he didn't touch the ground or get between the landing gear and the ground. He was glad that he was wearing something on his face, as he was freezing just from the wind, even with the gear. His arms and legs were shaking by the time the engine cut out. Hopefully, any variation in the flight path caused by him was written off as wind. Alex took slow quiet breaths as he eased himself down to the ground of the landing platform. He heard the pilot calling his landing in as confirmed. Alex removed his glove and grabbed his dart pen. Alex silently slunk out from under the helicopter and fired the pen into the man's bare neck. The effect was almost instantaneous. He started seizing and foaming at the mouth. Alex was pretty sure it was Cyanide. He refrained from gagging. A bullet was more merciful, but at least this was quick. The guy was a mercenary, after all. The man probably didn't know what was going on. The cracks of the shots rang out almost simultaneously. Five men fell to the ground. Alex watched below as a few tried to see where the shots had come from. Marion got eight more almost too easily. The other two had taken cover and seemed to figure out where she was enough to take aim. Not on his watch. Alex felt exposed as he drew his firearm. He could just barely make the shots from the roof. Alex squeezed the trigger twice and downed them both. He let out a breath. Sixteen down, twelve to go.

* * *

Marion was there nearly a minute later. "Slacking on that conditioning, are we? It isn't even a half kilometer."

Marion huffed as she climbed up to the roof. "Shut it, you. I was running uphill through several feet of snow."

Alex grinned. "Come on then."

Alex went up to the propped open door. Psssh. They must have gotten tighter on the security before he got there. Maybe Grief got more paranoid as time went on? Alex shrugged and opened the door with his left while holding his handgun in his right. It paid to be careful. Alex hadn't been able to figure out if this area would be guarded or not, but no way was he going without a gun. Marion was almost directly behind him. The door swung open with a bang. The guards inside froze at the sight of him. He and Marion made short work of the five in the room. Alex sighed. He must really look young for them to freeze up like that. That was seven including Grief and Stellenbosch (and Baxter, if he was even around). Alex moved into the place, keeping his tread utterly silent. "Marion, I forgot about the clones in the body count."

Marion scowled. "They're kids."

She glared. "Brainwashed to the point of being unsalvageable and I _did._ We are killing them now, end of discussion."

Alex let out a long sigh. "I can't shoot kids, Marion, even if they are evil."

Marion sighed. "I will take care of them, you will evacuate the rich ones out of the cells, yes?"

Alex felt the relief blooming in his chest. "Alright."

They moved further into the compound. Into the floor that held only the rest of the guards and Grief and Stellenbosch. Alex removed his face mask. It was starting to get hot and it obstructed his peripheral vision. Marion copied. They each took a side of the door before blowing it off its hinges and firing at anything that moved before the smoke so much as cleared. The rest of the guards were down. Grief and Stellenbosch came out looking just as comical as before in their pajamas. Alex felt no hesitation and he and Marion both shot them at the same time. It felt almost anticlimactic. They dropped to the floor with about four holes each in their chest. Alex gave Marion his spare gun and ammunition. "The clones are on the next floor, yes?"

Alex shrugged. The first surgery would not yet have healed. "Yes."

Marion moved toward the elevator. "Wait."

Marion raised an eyebrow. "Take the stairs. I'm not sure if it's trapped or not."

Marion gave him a fond look before hitting the fire escape and pulling one of the guard's snow masks on. Alex decided to go down the chimney again. He would fit. Then, he put his facemask back on. It wouldn't do to leave people with a description, even if (or especially if) they were rich kids.

* * *

Marion Beckett made it to the fire escape just as a few boys were cautiously emerging from their rooms. They looked at her suspiciously but accepted her wearing the mask. "Who are you?"

Marion made a split second decision. "A new guard. Your father ordered a few more after an unsuccessful attack on the compound."

Another one with eerily similar body language and appearance emerged. "So what's the word?"

Marion let her accent shine through a bit. "Your father has called a family meeting to be held in your living room with all of you. You are to wait there."

All sixteen of the boys emerged and followed her to the living area. Marion turned to leave. "Where are you going?"

One of the younger ones. "Out. I am not privy to your family business, obviously. Your father shall be with you momentarily."

The boy's lips twitched as she left. The room had no windows, one vent, and one door. It was perfect. She locked the door behind her and grabbed a chair from one of the rooms. It was a good thing that she always carried the equipment to gas just over one room. It was dead useful, even if it was considered a war crime. She pried open the vent, detached the other end, and rolled all of her poison grenades out the other end before replacing the vent. It was not a nice kind of gas and was actually related to the mustard gas used in the First World War. This had been modified to be fatal in no more than four minutes, however. It also burned right through the skin, nearly skipping the blister stage. She heard their screams as they breathed in the gas and quite literally partially melted both inside and out. Marion timed it to be eight minutes, just to be sure. She made the executive decision not to mention to Alex exactly how they died. It might offend his delicate sensibilities or something. Marion glanced at the area once more. It was run entirely on gas. Time for a good old-fashioned gas leak. Marion glanced at a nearby rug. Kindling for the fireplace. It was pretty hideous anyway. Marion felt her phone buzz. She picked up. It was Alex. "What's the ETA? I got the kids on the roof."

Marion sighed. "No more than five minutes. You have matches, right?"

If Alex's pyro ass didn't have matches, she'd eat her shoes. "Yeah, why?"

Marion huffed. "I'll explain when I get there."

Now all she had to do was get to the boiler room and play with some pipes. She'd already deposited the rug into the fireplace.

* * *

Alex had made his way down the ash-encrusted chimney without much trouble. Did anyone ever clean that thing? Alex wasn't sure he wanted the answer to that. Alex wondered how Marion was faring. The key to the cells was sitting on the desk. Apparently, the guards were a lot sloppier this time around. Alex was glad since otherwise, he'd have to search the dead bodies and slide down that disgusting chimney again. He grabbed the key and made his way to the last cell. To his surprise, there was more than one boy in there. Perhaps Grief had only implemented his only one person protocol in the last stage? Maybe he needed four at once to make a convincing school? Not that he followed his only one rule in the end anyway. Either way, these four would be saved. The others would never be touched by the man's odious plot in the first place. In the adjacent cell, there was the surgeon. Alex stared at the man who was clearly playing the victim. He was shaking almost uncontrollably. "Tell me, how much did they pay you for the surgeries? To look the other way when these boys, these children, died?"

The man started shaking. Cowardly piece of shit. The question was, of course, rhetorical. The man started blubbering incoherently. "Please don't kill me. I won't tell anyone, I-"

Alex felt a flash of fury. There was no way the man would keep silent. The papers would, of course, pay millions for the story. Plus, a good few organizations would as well. The families would pay to keep this quiet as well. "You won't tell anyone, hmm? Not the papers? We both know money is what drives you. You won't pull a little blackmail deal? I doubt it. No, best to end you here."

Alex's voice was velvet, even as he was getting himself back under control. Alex released the safety on his gun. "I wonder, have you ever done a single deed that makes you worth saving?"

He fired three times, just to make sure the odious doctor, who he found out had SCORPIA connections from Maddox, was dead. The boys stared at him, fear radiating off every pore. Alex unlocked the cell. "Time to go back to your families, kids."

One of the boys spoke up. "But, we've done stuff."

Alex snorted. "Arson and shoplifting? Fuck off, wannabe, and take this as a lesson to get your life on track. You don't want to end up like gutless the dead-o here. Now, come on. This is the last call for people who don't want to hike down the mountain in their nightclothes."

The boys followed him out and up the stairs onto the platform. They seemed relieved at the sight of the helicopter. "Who's going to fly it?"

Alex shrugged. "Hang on a moment."

He'd made sure to mix slang and use no accent on his English the entire time. He called Marion.

* * *

The boys were shivering. One raised his hand. "Um, aren't you a bit short for army stuff?"

Alex sighed loudly. "The government is an equal opportunity employer and endeavors not to be heightist in hiring decisions."

It was the first thing that popped into his head. Hey, it sounded official. That seemed to open the floodgates. "Who are you?"

Alex did his best to answer. "Classified."

Alex felt a tinge of annoyance, but couldn't blame them. "How old are you?"

His eye was going to twitch any minute now. "Classified."

Would the questions end? "How do our parents pay you, then?"

At least Jones had taught him the standard answer for this one. "I'm not allowed to accept payment outside of my government pay on the official pay scale."

That seemed to stop them in their tracks. "Really?"

Alex sighed. "Yes, damn it. No decent government allows that sort of thing. It leads to corruption, particularly in the cases of urgency classification of missions."

Would Marion hurry the fuck up? He was tired and cold and doing his best Wolf impression. Wolf would be proud. Maybe. If he thought about it and didn't punch Alex for suggesting that they were in anyway similar. "Oh."

He wasn't sure which one of them said it. Alex moved to the copter. "Less wind in here."

Marion chose that moment to appear. Alex got up. "Stick a lit match down the chimney while I start the copter."

Alex was too tired to even question it. "Yes, ma'am."

Marion had changed back to her original face covering. It was fortunate. The helicopter was starting up. Alex had not exactly been surprised to learn his aunt could fly one. In fact, he'd been a touch envious. Alex struck the match, dropped it down the chimney, and ran back to the helicopter just in case. He made sure to duck the spinning blades. They could easily decapitate a man. They were only a few dozen meters away when Alex heard the all too familiar sound of a building going up in flames. Alex stared at his aunt. "Really? I mean, we already eliminated everyone there."

Marion grinned. "The architecture was a blight on the mountainside anyway."

Alex pictured the atrociously ugly building. "Too true."

Marion landed the helicopter back at the platform it was meant to go on. Grief had owned both, so it simplified things immensely. Alex and Marion pointed the boys to the police station that was less than five minutes' walk away and vanished before the boys turned around (to the untrained eye, at least). Alex walked home with Marion. It took about ten minutes longer than it normally did. Alex was about to pass out. Fenrir was on their bed. Marion had to help him out of his gear. Alex was so tired, it didn't even register with him until he was already down to his normal clothing. He just went to bed with his dog and Marion joined him after showering first. They were both out in seconds.

* * *

Alex and Marion had assumed that the families would keep it completely quiet. They had assumed wrong. Marion had already emailed her boss, as Alex insisted she took sole credit for the entire thing. His argument that he didn't want a target on his back had worked like a charm. Marion had cooked breakfast and was pouring him orange juice when a story appeared on TV. "Billionaire Boys Rescued from Academy of Terror…"

Alex could practically hear the capitals. They even did short, candid interviews. "I've never been more amazed by a people in my life. I mean, they might be a midgets, but, man, they were badass."

Marion muted the television. Her eyes sparkled. Marion was technically short for a man, so it would probably pass any kind of initial tests. "You'd think they would keep it quiet."

Marion snorted. "Free publicity, plus, now their boys get some decently good press instead of shoplifting and shenanigans. They can also play a reformed by a life-changing experience angle too."

Alex sighed. "You think the kids'll get help, though?"

They had given the children some (heavily redacted) files to give to their parents. Marion snorted. "Of course, they don't want their precious children scarred for life."

The news went right into the ruins of the school and the fact that there were clones involved and not even the youngest clones were spared. Alex rolled their eyes as they discussed which of the more 'savagery-prone' intelligence agencies could be responsible. True, he couldn't bring himself to pull the trigger, but he resented the fact that news people who had probably never had to actively deal with a _real_ threat (with the exception of that one dude who'd served in Vietnam), let alone kill people, were calling one of his family a _savage_. He'd like to see how they would hold up against SCORPIA and then maybe they could talk. Blithering idiots. At least nobody had brought up how the young clones had - wait a minute. Unspeakable crimes against brainwashed children? Yes, Alex was the one guilty of taunting and shooting Dr. Greedy in front of them, but they were still alive. "Marion, what did you do?"

Marion blinked innocently. "Just a bit leftover from my stint breaking up a chemical weapons ring."

Alex sighed. "Marion."

Marion looked defensive and surprisingly vulnerable. "I'm sorry you had to do that."

* * *

Marion had almost expected him to slap her. It's probably what Patrick would have done. And she had ruthlessly killed children, which was pretty much one of Alex's two whole pet peeves. Marion knew her job was pretty much thankless and expected to hear about it from her boss _and_ Alex. She could almost hear his bitching now. Her boss was about as bad as Blunt in the employee treatment department. _You could have spared them for imprisonment_. Yeah, me and what army, sir? _You didn't have to blow up the building._ She wondered if he ever had gone outside his desk somedays. Perhaps he had simply forgotten what it was like. Or maybe he just didn't care. The man was abdominal at people skills. _Do you have any idea what this does to us politically if anybody gets evidence it was us?_ No, that was his problem. She just investigated, assassinated, and took orders that she stretched to the limit. Politics were one of the few things she had no patience for. Besides, there had been lives on the line. Marion returned to the present. She was nearly emotionless about the whole thing, but it still kind of twisted something in her chest, even if they were evil clones. Alex was gently rubbing her arm. "Are you okay?"

Marion refused to cry. It did no good and regrets were for the weak. Besides, being comforted by her twelve-year-old nephew was not exactly high on her list or good parenting tactics. I fact, she was pretty sure it was on a list of bad parenting techniques somewhere. "Yes, fine dear."

Alex didn't look as though he believed her. "Marion."

She sighed. "Alex."

The stupid fluffy mutt made him look even cuter, his eyes wide with concern for her. "Don't worry about me, Alex. It's a parent's job to worry about the children."

Alex was so close. "But-"

Marion lightly brushed her fingers over his lips. "But nothing. That _is_ the way of things. That _is_ the role of things. Anything else is a perversion of the mind against nature. I'm not saying you can't worry about us, but it _is_ _not_ and _should not_ be your primary role in life."

Alex huffed. "Okay. Can we hug now?"

Marion laughed. He really was delightful. Ian Rider didn't know what he was missing or slowly destroying. Oh, well. More for her. "Oh, Alex, we can always hug."

Alex hugged her and she didn't even mind when the furry rat joined in. Definitely a sign of insanity. Strangely, she didn't really care that much. Even if her clothes were going to be covered in 'dog' hair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Inuits are typically about 5'4" tall and the height varies very little within the community. Alex would be at or around five feet tall and Marion would be around 5'6" (decently tall, but Alex is just past her shoulder at this point - the books tell us his father was decently tall, so there is no reason he wouldn't be). The point being, the sweaters would probably fit both of them.


	46. Contention

Alex and Marion got back to a very tense home. Alex had gone back on his real passport on the off-chance Jones was watching airports. Alex didn't want to give Tulip any more ammunition in the blackmail department. Marion had been surprisingly quiet. Then again, Alex had given her a ton of reading and learned his lesson about how just one word in the heat of the moment could change everything. There were days he cursed his own stupidity. Marion was rapidly flipping through a gargantuan amount of files courtesy of Alex. "Where did you get all of this?"

It was the Drevin file. Alex had Maddox steal and copy all of their info from the Pentagon. Joe Byrne should really know better than to keep all his eggs in a high-risk military-target basket. Drevin aside, Alex could think of at least one other group who had succeeded in their attack. Ah crap, another thing to put on his to-do list. Alex didn't care if he was new to being Deputy Director or not. Marion was still looking at him. "Er...Do I have to tell you?"

Marion smirked. "I can always ask Ian if this came from MI6."

Alex flinched. Ah, there was the Marion he knew and occasionally wanted to murder. She must be getting back to normal after going on a mission with him. That, or she had been restraining herself as a courtesy for the duration. "An acquaintance of mine hacked the Pentagon."

And a few other places. Maddox was special like that. Alex said in an undertone. Fortunately, the captain had picked that moment to announce their landing. "An acquaintance, riiight."

Alex rolled his eyes. It was the truth. If the relatives didn't believe him, it was their problem. Maddox counted as a person, from his point of view. The airport was packed, of course. Alex didn't think airports had any middle ground. The places were either packed or creepy and deserted. The baggage claim went surprisingly smoothly considering the amount of illegal crap they both carried on with them. Alex wondered whether his aunt had split personalities sometimes. Or it could be that she was just nicer when away from the family and its responsibilities. Alex would be the first to admit that he was probably nicer to Ian than all of the rest of them. Then again, Ian was a lot nicer to him. Fenrir brushed up against him. Alex would swear the cabbie was giving them the evil eye, not that Alex blamed him. Fenrir was kind of massive for a cab. The two of them all but ran from the cab after Alex got his bags. Marion shook her head after she caught up with them, but let it go with an amused look. Alex strolled up to the house and rang the doorbell. It was opened by a very surprised Jack. "Miss me?"

Jack hugged him. "Of course, you noble idiot. Ian was furious when you ran off. This must be the aunt I've been hearing about."

Marion glided up to her. "Marion Beckett."

Jack took the hand. "Jack Starbright."

Alex shifted awkwardly while the two of them spent the next forty-five seconds staring at each other. Jack finally spoke. "Do come in."

Alex would normally have slipped past her, but Fenrir made it kind of difficult. This was going to be interesting.

* * *

Alex felt himself barely keeping the triumphant smirk off of his face as he walked into the house with his relatives. It was nice to have _someone_ crossed off the list and not having been stuck on the sidelines either. Plus, he'd gotten one over both Ian and Patrick. Marion sat down at the table next to Patrick. Jack and Tom were the only ones happy here. Patrick, Ian, and Crawley were doing a decent job of being civil. His cousins looked ready to bolt at any second. Fenrir fluffed up at Ian's look. Alex ran a hand through his fur. "Be nice, Fenrir."

Tom smirked. "How's the baby, Alex?"

Alex chuckled and hugged his pet before sitting at the table. "Well, thank you."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Uh, uh. You are washing your hands after petting that filthy animal. You aren't catching some disease on my watch."

Alex pouted. "Filthy animal? I wash my dog at least once a week."

Jack kept glaring him. "Fine. Fine."

Fenrir was shooting a hopeful look between him and the table. "Don't worry, boy, I'll find a way to slip you some of Jack's delicious cooking."

Jack playfully smacked his arm. "All that hard work and the dog gets to eat it."

Alex dried his hands. "Yeah, a whole eight minutes and forty-five seconds of it."

This was one of Jack's favorite kinds of salad. Jack gave him an expression of mock offense. "Well, if that's how you want to put it-"

Alex hastily amended. "It looks great, though."

The redhead turned faintly pink. "Thank you, Alex."

Alex let out a mental sigh of relief. They sat down to lunch.

* * *

"So, what kept you so long?"

Jack held back a sigh at Ian's completely tactless approach. The woman had been _hospitalized_ , for heaven's sake. She probably wanted a few days to bond with her nephew that Ian had _kept her from meeting for ten straight years._ Marion seemed to be able to hold her own, though. "Well, first I was unable to meet the health requirements to fly the entire distance and had to rest in between."

Ian was still looking accusatory. "And then?"

Marion let out a sigh. "Unavoidable work emergency. I had to do a briefing and take immediate action."

Jack was a little startled. "Your boss gave you a challenging assignment straight out of the hospital?"

Marion gave her a soft smile. "Contingency management is my department at the bank, I'm afraid."

Jack shrugged. To each their own. This was why she hadn't wanted a more conventional job after college. "Do you and Ian work for the same one?"

Marion laughed at that. "Good heavens, no. He'd never have been able to dodge me for that long if I did. Our banks are actually rivals, but occasionally work together."

Jack blinked. Ian was never that open about his work. "What department does Ian work in?"

Marion smirked. "Overseas finance. I don't envy him. I've heard the clientele are extremely persnickety. You get a lot of last-minute rescheduling and the time zones are a pain. Plus, there are politics involved."

Jack looked at Ian. "Really?"

Ian gave Marion the evil eye when he thought she wasn't looking. "Yes, it's really quite dull for most people, though."

Mmm. Hmm. Jack glanced at the rest of the table. "So how was the rest of the trip?"

Marion smiled. "Quite good. I took Alex skiing and snowboarding."

Alex piped up. "And you met Fynn."

Marion smiled. "Shut it, brat."

Alex grinned. Jack stifled her laughter. "Oh, but his eyes were such an attractive-"

Marion brandished her fork at him. "I'm warning you."

Alex kept right at it. "And it would be such a shame if we hadn't been able to look at his gloriously defined-"

Marion's glass of water was promptly upended over Alex's head. Jack burst out laughing as Alex sputtered and attempted to dry himself off. She just had to speak up. "Karma for all of my dates you ruined."

Alex blinked and let out an expression of mock despair. "The world is conspiring against me."

Jack got up to take the plates. "Exactly, dear."

Alex gave her an offended look. "But they were all scumbags."

Jack sighed. "Yes, but it would have been nice to get through dinner without you sending me their tax returns or evidence of three wives or anything they did wrong in their life at least once."

Alex looked a little sheepish. "I'd forgotten about that part."

Jack was more amused than upset, looking back. "At least I had a decent excuse to break up with the rude ones."

Her lips were twitching.

* * *

Ian (predictably) summoned him to his office after lunch 'at his earliest convenience'. That really meant right-fucking-now/after you finish feeding your mutant. Alex was less than amused but entertained himself by dragging out Fenrir feeding as much as he could, just to make Ian wait. Alex took a few deep breaths. He wondered if he wasn't developing some sort of anger management issue. Jack was washing dishes next to him. "Happy late birthday, by the way. Tom and I didn't forget."

Alex suddenly felt a lot better. "Thanks."

Tom was there. "So, did Aunt Crazy play nice this time?"

Alex grinned. "Yeah, I fell down during skiing, though."

Alex did have a few bruises from that. It helped that he'd remembered what balancing felt like. Tom grinned. "I missed you falling on your ass in the snow? No fair!"

Alex rolled his eyes. Tom seemed to think he was 'unnaturally' graceful. Tom was completely right, but Alex wasn't going to admit it. "Yeah, you did."

Tom pouted. "She got you a nice plant kit. Jack seems to think you like flowers now. I got you a nice, manly gift."

That got him a swat from Jack. She was all about not trying to influence his interests, however traditionally feminine. Alex rolled his eyes. Tom wasn't actually serious about that sort of thing, he just liked ribbing Alex about growing flowers. "Thank you, you two. I don't know what I would do without you."

Tom gave him a cheeky grin. "Suffer and die."

Alex swatted in his general direction. "Prat."

Tom grabbed his hand and used it to yank him into a hug. "Oh, you two."

Jack ended up joining them. Alex was startled to realize how close he was to her in height. Then again, Jack wasn't a tall woman. Tom was still shorter than him and he was totally smug about it. Alex didn't say anything because he knew Tom was still a bit sore about being shorter than most of the girls in their class. Alex knew it had been a long two years for the three of them. "I got you two something, too."

Actually, he'd altered both gifts with Maddox's help. They'd been inspired by Smithers' devices. They released him. Tom's was a leather bracelet with runes symbolizing friendship. Alex had put a tracking device linked to Maddox into the leather. The tooling had been the hardest part. Jack's had been trickier, but he'd managed to get a bracelet to match her necklace and had glued a similar device underneath one of the decorative details. They'd both come from the base. It had been the computer's idea, but Alex had agreed. "Wow, these are nice."

Alex smirked. "Still doubting my taste in accessories, Tom? For shame. I mean, you saw me in drama class."

Tom grinned. "Yeah, ol' Gibbons tried to put you in costume design with the girls. Definitely senile, that one."

Jack snorted. "Or maybe not, considering."

They were both nice pieces. Tom shook his head. "Nope, can you imagine what kind of dresses a _boy_ would make for the girls?"

Jack had faith in Alex's sense decency. Then again, his and Ian's jokes… "Definitely senile, that one."

Alex grinned. "Well, I have to go. Ian wants a meeting."

Jack let her hand fall to his shoulder. "Don't let him get you down. It's good that you care about your relatives."

Alex lightly touched the hand. "I won't and I know."

Jack's eyes were filled with concern. Alex felt the warmth from his first day back. Oh, Jack…

* * *

Alex headed to Ian's office with not a little foreboding. To his surprise, all the adults excluding Darian were there. He reluctantly left the furball outside. Alex sat in the chair. He couldn't bring himself to regret anything he had done. They all seemed to be waiting for him. Death's tattoos warmed on his back again. There was no stinging this time. Alex leaned back in the seat. If they wanted him to speak first, they were going to be here. Patrick was the first to speak. "There is a fine line between tenacity and indomitability. I'm beginning to think you're the latter."

Alex felt a smile with more teeth than joy appear on his face. "Good."

He refused to be ordered against his morals by anyone. That included his mildly sociopathic family members. Ian looked startled. "Something to add, Ian?"

Marion was being curiously quiet, considering her usually outspoken approach. "What were you two doing?"

Alex shrugged. "I'm sure you can guess what Marion was doing. I was enjoying an unexpected ski holiday."

Ian glared. "And you shut your phones off because?"

Alex gave him the evil eye. "You'd have tracked them and dragged our asses back otherwise. This was something that needed to be taken care of."

Ian glared. "Damn right, I would."

Patrick stomped on Ian's foot. "Be as that may-"

Alex got up. "Oh, shove it up your ass, you hypocritical fuck. The only reason you're upset is that this is going by my rules and not yours."

Crawley was staring at him with a kind of horrified awe. Marion's expression was priceless. Ian just looked constipated and Patrick was...amused? "It wasn't safe."

Ah, Ian doing his best broken-record imitation. "Fuck you. I got _kidnapped_ on one of your trips with me and fended off _two_ attempts back when you used to leave me home alone."

Ian looked like he'd been slapped. Marion exploded. "You _what_?!"

Alex gave her a glare. "I'm not going to hear a word out of your mouth considering the events of the past few days."

That was even excluding the fact he'd gotten to participate. He'd wanted to, but what honestly responsible adult would have let that happen. She looked away. Patrick still looked slightly amused and puzzled. "What's the matter, Gramps, never heard the word no in your life? If so, better get ready to hear it a lot more."

The man just looked slightly stunned. "Alex, be reasonable."

Alex scowled. "This coming from the guy who approves Marion's educational plans for her kids. Try another one."

Patrick sighed. "I could be forced to intervene."

Alex barely kept his hand from twitching toward his gun. "Keep your nose out of Ian's sole custody or I'll shoot it off."

Crawley sharp inhale behind him was not surprising. That may have been over the line, but still. He wasn't going to stand for this garbage. Ian cut in. "Alex, no death threat-ing the relatives."

Alex rolled his eyes. "I was only threatening to maim him, besides you actually tried to strangle one."

Ian sighed. "That was a mistake."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, you mistakenly wrapped your hands around his neck. Save that one for Jones, why don't you?"

Ian huffed. "I avenged your kidnapping attempts and the like."

Alex snorted. "And that makes it so much better. Alright, three cheers for the family."

Crawley seemed to be edging toward the door. Patrick sighed. "Moving on. We need to discuss living arrangements."

At least Gramps knew when to quit. "And I need to be here, why?"

Patrick gave him a look. "Because we are planning for Christmas next year, now hush."

Then, he and Ian began to debate location. Ian refused to go to Tel Aviv. Patrick didn't like London. They couldn't go back to Russia for a while. Crawley put his foot down on most of the African continent. Alex decided to cut in. "What about Nebraska?"

Patrick shrugged. "Property is cheap, as are hunting licenses."

Ian was actually considering it. "It'll have to be rural."

Patrick shrugged. "That should be easy enough to pull off."

Alex was just beginning to relax when Marion opened her mouth. "What about water activities? It's landlocked."

Alex mentally groaned. Ian had an answer. "Get something near a real or artificial lake."

Crawley blinked. "There aren't fish, though."

Patrick shook his head. "Not necessarily. Lakes can be stocked."

Alex sighed as they all belly-ached about the fish ratios in stocked versus real lakes. He looked at Marion and rolled his eyes. His aunt was just as bored with lakes as he was. Marion smirked back at him. Then she silently stalked over and whispered in his ear. "While the rest of the Nerd Herd debate lakes, why don't we leave?"

Alex watched the door as they inched towards it. The doorknob began turning of its own accord. Alex resisted a snort as the door silently opened to the face of his unrepentant pet. Fenrir actually looked quite pleased with himself. Marion was shaking with suppressed laughter as they shut the door behind them, the others still engrossed in their _enlightening_ conversation. Marion whispered as they went down the hall. "The furry mutt is good for something, who knew?"

Alex elbowed her in the gut. "My baby is good for plenty of things."

Fenrir nipped his other hand. They were out of the hallway. Alex raised his voice to its normal level. "Alright, the odds of Ian actually getting me up for your plane ride are about null, so I guess this is goodbye."

Marion hugged him. Alex could smell her perfume wafting over him. "Goodbye."

Alex went off to say goodbye to his cousins and Darian.

* * *

Lily raced over to him in a blur of red hair and Jason wasn't much better. Alex almost fell over under both of them. "Thanks for getting mom."

Lily was rather breathless. Jason ruffled his hair. "Yeah, this is kind of the longest we've ever been without her."

Alex felt a stab of envy. To his surprise, Darian had gone out. "Hey, where's Darian?"

Jason shrugged. "Not here. Marion talked with him and then he scurried off muttering about sellers and accounts and passports."

Alex sat down on the couch. Darian was the guy who ran stuff to fences. Who'd have thought? Alex got up as Fenrir nipped him again. "Alright, ya furry rat, I'm following you."

Alex followed a very smug furball up the stairs. They were heading for his room. Alex hoped it wasn't a repeat of the Great Sock Shredding. Jack would have a fit. Then again, he would need new clothes soon anyway. Fenrir looked a little too smug as they went up to his room. Alex noticed the mail that Fenrir had left on his bed near his presents from Jack and Tom. It was all stamped as delivered for the current day. "Did you hide this from Ian?"

The wolf gave a sort of head jerk that Alex realized was probably Fenrir's version of a nod. A wet nose pressed against his left arm. "Thank you, Fenrir."

Fenrir let out a rumbling noise that sounded more human than dog. The first one was a letter from the Department for Education. It felt heavy stiff. That was odd, he wasn't expecting an assessment notice until later in the year. Alex shrugged and ripped it open. It was a notice informing him that he'd made the program as an alternate. What the hell? He hadn't even filled out the damn forms. Great. No wonder Ian was grumpy as fuck. On the other hand, Death had told him to go if he wanted Sarov to stay sane. This way, he could honestly tell Ian that it totally wasn't his fault. Alex was secretly glad he didn't have to lie about such a huge thing. His and Ian's relationship was put through enough obstacles already. Alex didn't think his relatives would care that much, except for the 'not a cult' knowledge he was supposed to be learning. Ian could probably condense it. Alex hoped. There were a few more things on the bed. Alex was saving his presents for last. The second envelope was a letter from Sarov. Alex had come to recognize the envelopes stationary the man preferred to use. Alex drew his 'letter opener' through the seal. It was written entirely in Russian on stationary from Russia. The calligraphy was rather elegant.

* * *

_Dear Alex,_

_Allow me to first congratulate you on your acceptance into the transfer program. It is very prestigious, even here in Russia. I am sure we will be seeing each other again soon enough. Your cougar of a guardian is not very friendly. Then again, we do generally oppose one another. Even as an alternate, I daresay you will be in Russia this time next year. Children often get sick, even in western countries. I have volunteered to host you as a student, though my only son has been dead for quite some time. The minister seemed receptive to my request._

_I was glad to read that you had gotten through so many Russian classics in the last letter, despite the frequent travel that leads to your unorthodox schooling. It is a shame they are not more widely read. What did you think of_ _Crime and Punishment_ _? I have to say it was one of the better assigned readings on my son's list. I can recommend several other novels, even if your tastes run in the vein of some more modern writers. You seem to have quite the full schedule, but even I can cram in a book or two in mine._

_It may seem presumptive, but I have already begun arranging for your stay. You will be attending classes at a very fine institution, but it is not a boarding school. Your friend, Ms. Teller, will be nearby. It is a pretty stiff walk for most children, but I am sure you can make it. I hope you will enjoy your time here._

_My best wishes and regards,_

_General Alexei Sarov_

* * *

Alex just stared at the letter. Yeah, if somebody didn't suddenly come down with a bad case of food poisoning a week before the exchange trip, he'd eat his snow boots. Fenrir brushed up against his hand. Alex grinned and ran his hand through his pet's fur. The fluff ball was awesome. The next envelope was from Yassen. Alex was almost curious. "It better not be another body part." It was heavier than a conventional letter, so it was a legitimate concern. Alex sighed and decided it was best not to wait too long. The letter, to his surprise, wasn't a letter at all, but instead a set of pictures. Alex recognized them to be of his father. In SCORPIA uniform and mostly at Malagosto, but it was still more pictures than anyone but Maddox had ever given him. There was a flash of something resembling warmth. It had no card, but Yassen wasn't the fluffy, card-giving type anyway. Alex went for the third and last package that Fenrir had brought him. It was from Charles, of all people. Alex was kind of shocked the man actually remembered his birthday. Then again, the guy had gone on a trip with him to Japan and shot at a bunch of random dudes who kidnapped his aunt, no questions asked and no police called. Brandon, really? Ian had forgotten his birthday _again_ , but the doctor who met him all of five times and saw his medical file _once_ didn't. Alex more ticked about the principle, rather than the presents. Really, happy late birthday was not that much to ask for. Hell, even the freaking _contract killer_ remembered his _goddamn_ birthday. Alex took a deep breath and tried not to get terribly upset. Jack and Tom remembered. Jack and Tom remembered. Alex picked up Tom's gift. He nearly laughed out loud after he opened it and found pranking supplies. Subtle, Harris. About as subtle as a charging rhinoceros. Ah, who was the poor victim - he meant fellow prankee - this time? Unbeknownst to Tom, Alex had once used a very similar set to prank certain people at a certain bank in the past life. Alex grinned at the memory of Tulip's expression before moving onto Jack's present. It was a pot with soil in it and a note.

* * *

_Dear Alex,_

_One of my few friends in college (you might call it uni) majored in plant biology. She got pretty excited when she heard I liked plants and gave me a couple of seeds. Mind you, she got kind of cagey when I asked what it was. Weirdo. I forgot about them until I started going through some of my old things. Anyway, since I kill everything that's green I thought you could have them instead and it could be a project. I've got no clue if they'll grow after this long, but we'll see. Happy Birthday!_

_Love,_

_Jack_

_P.S. If it doesn't grow, we'll get something else._

* * *

Alex smiled at the paper before putting it in his usual spot in the wall. It was so typical of her, it made him ache inside. He had missed her when she was gone. Even if she had killed every last flower, bamboo, and cactus he'd given her. Jack would get this hilariously sulky expression after yet another plant was relieved of its torment - sorry, care - at her hand. It didn't help that she was fond of pickier plants, like orchids. Alex had actually been impressed that time she did in a bamboo plant before he realized it was a complete accident on her part. Alex made a mental note to ask her for a scrapbook the next time she went out to the store. Fenrir helped himself to Alex's bed as he put his stuff on his desk. He rolled his eye. "Furry rat."

The wolf ignored him and stretched itself out. Fenrir was enormous. The fluff shot him a hopeful look with wide eyes. Alex snorted and got on the bed. The shaggy fur was extra fluffy. Alex figured Fenrir might have gotten his winter coat or something. He buried his face in the dog's fur. Fenrir was all but purring. "I love you."

It was slightly muffled by the fur, but Alex was pretty sure Fenrir got the idea. His dog was so warm that he didn't need a blanket to fall asleep. It felt like he'd only been unconscious for a few moments when he was awoken by a prodding sensation near his shoulder. Alex groaned into Fenrir fur and opened his eyes to Darian. "What's up?"

Alex was pretty sure it came out right. Darian handed him an envelope. "Bank and new fake ID details."

Alex rubbed his eyes. "Why?"

Darian shrugged. "You burned one for us. It's only fair we give you one back."

Alex felt the rest of his drowsiness beginning to fade. "Thanks."

Darian glanced around. "Yeah, just don't tell pops. He doesn't know about this and he'd stick a bunch of malware in it if he did."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Marion didn't bug it?"

Darian looked shifty. "Well, she did, but I stuck a flash drive in there that'll remove the virus."

"Why?"

Darian sighed. "Remember at Christmas when you told me to start making my own choices like an actual adult?"

Alex ran his hand along Fenrir's fur. "Yeah. It's not the sort of thing you forget snarling at a relative."

Darian gave him a bitter smirk. "Maybe not you. Anyway, I took a good long look at all the choices I made and decided I didn't like looking at myself in the mirror. So, uh, this is my choice. Baby steps, you know."

Alex sighed. "Your choice is to look out for me instead of Patrick?"

Darian's nod was so earnest Alex didn't really have the heart to tell the guy that this wasn't _quite_ what he had in mind. "Alright, try to look out for the kids. I'm not sure I like the idea of Marion being their prime educator."

Darian gave him a look. "You know, I never really did either."

Darian looked hesitant to leave. "Err… I know it's kinda late, but happy birthday."

Darian produced a small package. "It's a bug scanner disguised as a calculator. Nobody tells me anything, but I used to build and repair these and bugs and sooner or later the relatives will stick you with something."

Alex let a soft smile cross his face. "Thank you."

Darian hesitantly moved in for a hug. "Welcome. I got to go. See ya at the next reunion."

* * *

Darian Beckett had never been one to go against the grain, so to speak. It was one of the reasons he did so well in the army. He knew he wasn't exactly leader material, but he wasn't stupid either. Then, Alex had come into his life with all the delicacy of a wrecking ball. Helen's kid. Helen had been the only reason he'd ever gone against his family. When she'd died, he was crushed. Darian had been happy to let Patrick and Marion make most (if not all) of his life choices for his entire life, excluding the events surrounding Helen. He'd been content, he supposed. Definitely not happy and a touch apathetic. Marion should never have been allowed to adopt children. He'd known that, but hadn't said a word. Alex was different. Then again, he didn't know anyone else who would have called Patrick a hypocritical fuck to his face. Marion had slipped a bug into Ian's office. Darian had put it in the letter but didn't have the guts to say it to Alex's face. Alex wasn't entirely wrong either. That had been his catalyst, really. All he needed was a little push. Then again, he wasn't technically betraying Patrick, just looking out for the future (Alex) leadership. It was an excuse that wouldn't have a prayer of saving him if he ever had to use it. Patrick would kill him for that. He wasn't _John_ or one of the other precious types. Darian just hoped Alex ended up better than Patrick. He took a deep breath. Encourage Alex to go against the family. Don't let Patrick get custody. Keep the kids away from Marion as much as possible. It wasn't much of a plan, he'd admit. Maybe it was better that way. Darian had decided his new boss was Alex, family tradition or no family tradition. He wasn't sure he could actually function without one and he wasn't sure if he even wanted to try. _Soldiers follow orders._ Darian felt an oncoming headache that usually came with trying to go against conditioning. _But I am._ That reply stilled the onslaught of flashbacks that was threatening his current state of mind. Darian sighed. Crisis averted. Now he just had to make sure Marion didn't notice anything enough to bitch about it to Patrick. It was easy enough. Nobody, after all, paid him that much mind. Patrick expected plots from Ian, Marion, and Alex. Darian knew he didn't even make the list of possible threats. Better for him. It had always been Marion as the center of attention. She was skilled but vastly overrated in his opinion. Arrogant. She didn't think she would ever be caught. Darian sighed softly. Those two were really controlling. Especially after Helen died. Maybe one day he'd get to pick his own menu without the two of them dropping their two cents in. Yeah, right. Was it too much to hope that Alex would be fairer than the army or Patrick? Maybe, maybe not. He would just have to hope. Alex was right. He really was pathetic. Darian wandered off to bed. He was desperately praying this wouldn't backfire on him.

* * *

Marion was waiting for him in the morning. "Did you follow my instructions?"

Darian inwardly smirked. "Yes."

He had, but he'd just tacked a few things on the end that she hadn't told him to do. "Good."

The children were watching them nervously. Darian wondered why. It wasn't as though he ever openly or covertly argued with Marion. Well, he was now, but this was the first time in over a decade. Patrick got down with his usual scowl and lack of morning greeting before 6:00 a.m. "Time to go, children."

Darian wondered if the man actually cared. He could disappear. Darian had enough skills and training for that. But then, there would be nobody watching out for the kids. It was one of the reasons he'd put up with his relatives controlling, abusive asses. That, and he'd had nowhere else to go even when he could have gotten away. They were on the plane before either Mr. & Mrs. Twit decided to have another go at him. "Enjoy your trip in the coffin?"

Bitch. She knew he was anxious about tight spaces. "I don't know, sis. How was the nice, long waterboarding you got?"

Marion scowled at him. "Now, children, not in public, please."

Yeah, sure dad. No mention of how Marion totally started it, of course. But then, it would defeat the purpose of having a golden child. The children just looked resigned. Darian was resolved to actually follow Alex's directions before, but that really was what cinched it for him. So much for the family philosophy of actually parenting ones' children. Darian wondered how long he'd been willfully looking the other way. There was a sinking sensation inside him as he got off the plane. Patrick was eyeing him. "I want a word, son."

Darian followed him. What else would he do? His whole life was following other people. "Sure, dad."

Patrick sat before him. Darian hadn't had to even think about protocol in years. "Sit."

There was the invitation. "What do you want, father?"

For once, Marion wasn't there. "Alex?"

Of course, the man had long ago dispensed with the preliminary greetings. "He'll be fine. I don't think he'd switch up his morals even if Marion decided to go the more physical route."

Yeah, he was betting on that. "I am counting on it."

Darian mentally sighed but gave no outward response. _So am I, father. So am I._

* * *

Ian Rider was not particularly happy with his boss at the moment. He strolled into Tulip Jones and Alan Blunt's meeting without so much as knocking. Then, he flung down copies of the three applications onto Blunt's desk. "I don't remember giving my consent for these, oddly enough."

Blunt coughed. Jones gave him a severe look. "I don't remember you knocking, Agent Rider."

Ian felt his lips twist into an unamused smile. "I must have forgotten it somewhere in between cleaning up the CIA's mess and cleaning up yours."

Blunt was as expressionless as always. Tulip looked as though she'd been slapped. Under different circumstances, it might have been funny. Sadly, this wasn't anything he found remotely entertaining. Blunt began speaking. "I fail to see an issue with letting the boy take a semester or two abroad. It's all above board, I assure you."

Ian growled. "Above board?! This is _Russia._ Their bloody roads can't even be built _above board._ What _cretinous_ -"

Jones cut him off. "Alan assures me nothing nefarious was going on."

Ian smirked. "Yeah, Tulip? We all know what that is worth around here. My dead brother is the last time I had everlasting faith in Blunt's analytic abilities."

Blunt opened his mouth, only to immediately shut when Tulip stomped on his foot. Ian gave her a look. "Are you going to believe him, the guy who never saw Howell coming, despite claiming to be God's gift to intelligence, or me the guy who broke into the Kremlin and got away twice?"

Ian didn't wait for dismissal. He stopped at the door. "Oh, and Tulip?"

Tulip Jones was still staring at him. "Yes, Ian?"

Ian turned around so she could see just how serious he was. One of her specialties was behavioral analysis. _And psychological manipulation._ Hissed a voice in his head that was either John or Alex. "If Alex dies, I'm pledging my allegiance to SCORPIA's board in exchange for your heads on a platter."

Blunt actually looked startled for once. Tulip was so white she looked ready to faint. "Duly noted."

Ian inwardly smirked as he slammed the door. She'd even forgotten his title.

* * *

John Crawley glared at him across the man's desk. "Did you really need to threaten them like that?"

Ian glared right back. "Abso-fucking-lutely."

Crawley sat back in his chair and groaned into his hands. Ian was perfectly happy sticking to his threats on this one. He was also quite serious. "They'll want me to spy on you now."

Ian shrugged. "I'm aware."

Crawley gave him a look. "I mean really spy on you."

Ian shrugged. "So do your job how you see fit."

Crawley seemed to be struggling. "Conflict of interest."

Ian tilted his chair back further, tempting fate. "Is this sort of thing ever really not?"

Crawley looked panicked. "I'm _not_ you, Ian. I _can't_ juggle this _shit_. I don't even want to _try_. Please, Ian, what do I do?"

Ian let the chair fall back into proper alignment. "For starters, you don't have this conversation in a bugged office."

Ian pulled out a device that he'd gotten from dubious sources. It looked like a pen. He twisted it and a faint buzzing noise was emitted. "That'll take care of it."

John looked shocked and a little betrayed. "They bugged my office? Why?"

Ian shrugged. "It's just what they do, John. Precautionary in your case, probably. It's one of the reasons I don't let people in my home office."

Crawley just stared at him. "Why did you never warn me?"

Ian sighed. "You never needed a warning, John. Have you ever mishandled a case or even a bloody paperclip?"

Crawley gave Ian the evil eye. "No, but someone needs to cover up your chaos-radiating ass."

Ian popped out of his chair. "Exactly, Crawley."

Crawley gave him the look of paperwork hell. "What exactly?"

Ian grinned. "Me chaos, you order."

John gave him a look that told him he was going to be turning in his paperwork in triplicate, with late forms, and with at least three departments for a while. Ian shrugged. "How does that help me?"

Ian began to pace. "Be yourself, John. Play pretend. Or just report what you see. I don't really care if Jones knows every detail of our sex life, you know."

Crawley turned a shade of pink more common to floral arrangements than people. "I'm sure some things can be omitted."

Ian grinned and twisted his 'pen'. It was the Cheshire grin he always wore when pulling a great prank. "Exactly, Crawley, have a nice day."

Crawley grumbled under his breath. "Bipolar twerp."

Ian turned and was laughing. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

Crawley gave the door the evil eye. "Heaven help me, but I do."

* * *

Alex was baking a cake with Tom. It was one of Jack's few exceptions to her ten-minute rule. Her reasoning was that cake only took less than ten minutes of prep if it came from a box. Alex's reasoning was that cake was delicious and you got to eat the leftover icing. Tom had just watched the conversation they all knew would end with a cake with no small amount of amusement. Especially when Alex pulled out his wounded puppy look and told Jack he hadn't gotten any birthday cake. You'd have thought he was about to tell them Marion's illness was terminal from the look he got, _honestly_. Tom had barely kept from laughing at loud at Alex's look. Having to play Romeo to Alex's Juliet had been good for something, at least. The only reason he'd gotten the part was that he bribed the school spirit committee (not the secret one). They had both been in running for the lead. The teacher just hadn't decided which lead for the two of them. Tom was currently sneaking a spoonful of batter and made sure to concentrate on the critical part of not dropping it all over himself. Alex looked directly at him and began shaking with silent laughter. Hey, just because _Alex_ was mutantly graceful didn't mean the rest of them were. _Some people_ had to make an effort not to fall and break their face. Meh, his gene donors were just defective. That was it. He just managed to get away with it when Jack turned around. "Tom Harris!"

Uh, oh. It was still better than his parents though.

* * *

John Crawley was supposed to be working. He was actually staring at a wall and sighing. The paperwork on his desk was not being done for once. Jones barged in a few seconds later. "Where did he get that?"

Crawley shrugged. "I don't know."

He didn't want to, either. Jones huffed. "He was serious this time."

Crawley opened a random file on his desk. "You guys did threaten _Mini_ with _Russia_. The kid's nice enough not to be considered bait, even if they weren't related. If you try to get other people in on this, he gets the sympathy card."

Jones stared at him. "Mini? They are _nothing_ alike."

Crawley shrugged. "Sometimes and sometimes they are."

Tulip was looking at him funny. "Do you know something I don't?"

Crawley closed the file he was currently unable to pay attention to. "I know lots of things you don't, Tulip. Is there something specific you need?"

Jones sat down in front of him. Her stiff, formal way of sitting was so very different from Ian's controlled lounge. Crawley supposed there was a point in that but didn't want to think about it too much. "We need you to re-do those files."

Crawley sighed. It wasn't like he hadn't seen this coming, the nosy shits. "I'll need a few weeks."

Tulip shrugged. "Take all the time you need. This is an internal assignment only. No records. You understand."

Yes, he did. Crawley didn't like it one bit, either. "Yes, ma'am."

Jones continued. She seemed to think he needed the talk on how not to involve other agents. He'd been working here for longer than Ian. "Yes, ma'am."

Crawley was at his usual tune out the unnecessary bits part of this talk. Jones walked out not too much longer and left Crawley alone with his currently unpleasant line of thought. It all came down to choices in the end. _Ian or Jones. Ian or Jones._ If only it were that simple. He sometimes wished he was _actually_ a banker. But then he would never have met Ian. He'd been working for MI6 for as long as he'd been out of school. _Ian or Jones_. Crawley remembered all of the times Ian had caused him paperwork. The same shit-eating grin and sparkle of life in the brown eyes. Jones slowly fading to grey after her children and John Rider were murdered. She used to be so much more. He remembered. Tailing Ian with Mini. Killing off Howell right under her nose. It made him feel alive. The way his wife had walked out with no small amount of contempt. _I want a man who loves me more than paperwork, John._ Mini's eye-rolling at possible imminent death. _You're not really going to let him go off alone, are you?_ The days after he was injured where Ian's pranks on the nurses were his only bright spot. _Don't worry, Crawley, lighting a thistle on fire and acting like a madman who believes in zombies probably won't get me banned._ He'd actually had trouble breathing he was laughing so hard at the time. _Ian or Jones._ The people Ian had killed in the name of patriotism and the growing corruption. He wasn't blind or deaf. They had all employed SCORPIA. _Ian, and fuck you Blunt._ Crawley made his choice. He wondered if they would be surprised. Maybe.


	47. A House Visit

Belinda Mordant was not expecting a house visit. Then again, one does not usually expect guests at three in the morning who break in but politely leave your lock and windows intact. "Good morning, Doctor."

Ah, her new exception to her rule not to take patients ever again. "Good morning, Alex. Shall we begin?"

Alex gave her a cheeky grin. "Are you sure you don't want tea?"

Belinda rose, letting the blanket she had around her fall. "Yes."

Alex followed her in. "Do you know how often you'll be away this year?"

Alex shrugged. "Nope."

Belinda sighed. Stability of the home in question. "Next year?"

Alex had a habit of sitting perfectly still. Funny, most people would fidget. "I'll probably be going to Russia. I'm marked as an alternate in the transfer program, but there are other factors that will probably see me going."

Belinda began penning a few notes. She would need them. "Other factors?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Blunt, Jones, Sarov."

Belinda wondered why even the basic questions had needed an essay. This was probably why. "You don't sound too happy with the first two."

Alex scowled. There was a flash of emotion that he wiped off too quickly for her to read. "Oh, I'm not."

Belinda could tell from his tone that he was not willing to talk about it for the moment. "Do you want to go to Russia?"

Alex seemed to think about it. Had nobody asked him? "Yes."

It was a firmer answer than she expected. Most people who routinely had their autonomy removed had issues making decisions. "What is your earliest clear memory?"

Alex thought for a moment. "A field."

Belinda knew it was a nice or at least neutral memory. "What are your goals here?"

Alex seemed surprised. "I'm sorry?"

Belinda put down the clipboard. "Your therapy goals, Alex. What do want from therapy?"

Alex didn't seem to have considered it. Not uncommon in children referred by a family member, but she preferred to ask anybody above the age of eleven either way. "Well, I'd like a normal night of sleep, for one."

Insomnia. "Anything else? Do take your time."

Alex was quiet for a while. She thought he might not answer her. "I'm not sure, but I kind of want my family to get along."

Belinda made a note to ask about it later. Sadly, he might be one of the many children who found out that it was impossible for people to get along in his case. You couldn't change your relatives, but you could change your reaction to them. Belinda usually let her patients find out about their families the hard way. The younger ones would only accept with time that families feuded. The questions continued in her normal vein for some time.

* * *

Alex got back to his house sometime later. Fenrir had waited for him. "Hey."

Fenrir accompanied him to the breakfast table. Alex technically had slept the six hours he needed, but the late night hours were a killer. Jack spotted him at the table around fifteen minutes later with Fenrir sitting at his side. "Where were you?"

Alex suppressed a yawn. "Psychologist. Just got back."

Jack ruffled his hair before walking towards the fridge. "Those are some odd hours, but I guess if it works…" There was a pause as she went for the fridge. "Darn, I forgot to get more eggs. How does cake for breakfast sound?"

Alex felt a grin appear his face. "I love you."

Jack let out a peal of laughter. "I didn't honestly expect a protest."

Ian wandered down shortly after. "Why is there cake on the table?"

Alex pulled a perfectly innocent expression. "We ran out of everything else for breakfast."

Ian ran his hands through his hair. "Are you sure we're out of groceries?"

Alex kept his face completely straight and slightly mournful. It was hard while eating cake, okay? "Yep."

Ian sat down and muttered under his breath before moving onto coffee. Crawley walked down in his usual suit and gaped at the sight of Ian eating cake for breakfast. One look at MIni told him that Alex was pulling a fast one. It was almost Ian's expression when he was trying to keep a poker face, but not entirely serious in the attempt. Crawley sat down to breakfast. Well, he may be a grown-ass man, but he was still not going to protest cake for breakfast. Tom bounced in about ten minutes before Starbright would leave for his school. "Cake for breakfast! Score!"

Mini was grinning as though Christmas had come early. "Oh, Tom, don't you love me now."

Tom stuck out his tongue. "Yeah, but only because you didn't let the dog eat it."

Fenrir's wide yellow eyes were looking hopefully at Tom's plate. "Cake is bad for dogs."

Jack glanced at the clock. "Christ! Tom, time to go. We're going to be late!"

After about five frantic minutes later, they vacated the house.

* * *

Alex felt himself smiling as he watched them go. Ian had finished breakfast. "Alright, Crawley and I are going to work. Have you got your study set up for the day?"

Alex shrugged. "Yep."

They left after a few minutes. Fenrir was at his side while he brushed his teeth. Alex took one look at his books and decided he was going to have to return them to the base and avoid studying for the next few hours. "Fenrir, do you want to go to the base?" The wolf perked up instantly. "Yeah, let's go." It was still a bit chilly, even early in the year. Alex put on one of his lighter coats and went the now-familiar route to the base. "Maddox, can you hear me?"

Maddox's hologram form appeared in front of him. "Almost always, Mr. Rider. How can I help you today?"

Alex sat down. "Do you have any recommended reading?"

Alex heard what he thought might be a printer running. He got up just in time to grab the sheet. "I compiled a list of second-year medical texts and commonly assigned military ones that did not involve machine repair."

Alex grinned. "No building tanks for me then, huh?"

The hologram shook its head at him. "The words 'illegal for civilians to own' come to mind for some odd reason. I can't imagine why."

Alex grinned. "But I own a lot of illegal things."

Maddox arched its hologram eyebrow at him. "Yes, but a tank is a whole new level of illegal, don't you think?"

Alex shrugged. Hey, it was worth a shot. "Besides, Antonio will probably own a few in your inevitable war with the CIA and cartels, don't you think?"

Alex pouted. "Yeah, but it's not really the point now is it?"

The hologram ignored him. "Speaking of which, your status report is waiting. I diverted it from the mail system, as I don't think MI6 will appreciate Antonio's update on his status with your joint plan taking over South America."

Alex picked up a larger stack of paper. At least the reading probably wouldn't be dull. I mean, this was a summary of the interesting stuff. "I'm shocked he'd send it like that."

Maddox flickered. "On the contrary, your mail would have been perfectly fine, were your relatives not who they were. Antonio took over an operation that made quite a bit sending cocaine over the mail to accountants. They deemed the lower risk to their person worth the mark-up."

Alex stared. "That's actually interesting."

Maddox's voice took a very dry turn. "Yes, well, best get on with that reading."

* * *

Alex began flipping through Antonio's stuff first. It was way more interesting than his textbooks. Alex was actually impressed with the sheer amount of information and corruption Antonio could gather and perpetuate. Then again, there had to be a reason that an actual intelligence agency was on semi-officially speaking terms with him. Little did they know, he was working to dissolve their efficacy in his region. Of course, they might have figured that out already. Alex was reading the part where Antonio was slowly taking over the other cartels as well. He had to be subtle because the CIA liked to have options. Alex mentally snorted. Hypocrites, the bloody lot of them. Antonio was trying to take over the others so they would have fewer people to massacre. Sadly, they'd still have to take some of the more unstable and corrupt ones down, but Alex wasn't about to let people keep their positions if it meant innocent people suffering. They might have to replace the government as well, depending on how corrupt the officials were and what kind of candidates were left over after everybody else got kicked out. Cough, invited to dinner and poisoned, cough. Political and literal bloodbath. Alex sighed and got managed to get through it in a few hours. Hostile takeovers, even the ones involving illiterate populations, took a surprising amount of paperwork. He should probably write up some sort of government plan if he was going to take it over, right? I mean, education and tax systems didn't just appear from nowhere and Antonio's system, while efficient, collapsed if there was no one to play the despotic leader or if said leader didn't actively watch out for themselves and the people. The whole point of this was not to create another corrupt dictatorship after all. Alex groaned and promised himself that he would look into it. Ian liked that sort of thing, right? Alex wondered if Tulip would get too suspicious if he asked her for suggestions, but he figured she was a huge civics nerd. Hmm. Maybe the required reading for A-Level Civics would do the trick. Alex wondered how much he could straight-up rip off of other constitutions. And it would have to be in Spanish. Well, at least Tom could probably sucker the Spanish teacher into editing his 'theoretical' constitution.

* * *

Ian Rider was thoroughly surprised when John Crawley walked into his office unannounced. That was typically more his thing, but he wasn't about to complain. Plus, if he had the option between staring at Crawley and staring at boring paperwork, the answer was going to be his boyfriend every time. Ian knew he was staring a bit too long when Crawley glanced up. "Ian, I'm not a food item and it's two hours away from lunch."

Ian flashed Crawley an innocent expression that fooled neither of them. "Whaaat? I like looking at you more than boring black and white lines."

Crawley snorted. "Uh, huh. Sure. Keep telling yourself that. It's so not happening in your office." Crawley wondered why he had ever thought Ian was in the least shy about relationships. Ian just kept looking at him. "You're a distraction."

Ian grinned. "I'm a nice-looking one, though."

Crawley felt that a mature response was unlikely to have an effect and threw his pen at his coworker. Jones walked in at that exact moment. "I'm going to pretend I didn't see that. Julia Rothman's body just turned up on a beach."

Ian grinned. "Score." Crawley resisted the urge to facepalm sometimes, he really did. Jones fixed Ian with a look. "I mean, uh, I'll conduct this investigation with as much professionalism and inter-agency cooperation as possible."

Crawley resisted a snort. Sure he would. "One would hope, Agent Rider."

Jones stalked out of his office. Crawley just shook his head. "How on earth you ended up as a top agent is a mystery."

Ian smirked. "They don't really care that much how I act. I mean, I could dress up as a bum as long as I do my job and get away with it. It's called skill in the field."

Crawley gave him the evil eye over a stack of paperwork. "Why do I bother?"

Ian got up to follow Jones and took Crawley's hand. He felt his heart skip a beat, despite everything. "Because you like me."

Crawley resisted the urge to growl. Yes, he did. Unfortunately, being in a relationship did not make Ian act any more mature. Pssh. You like him, pranks and all. Great, now Mini was in his head and outside of his head. Crawley supposed it would have happened eventually, but had thought it would take a couple more years. Lah de dah, you don't actually mind or you would have quit being his friend years ago. Why did mental Mini have to be right? Crawley was glad he didn't get an answer one snarky Rider was enough for any given conversation and they were almost at Jones' office.

* * *

Alex was almost done with his non-family related work. Next were Ian's assigned books and his own self-study. "You get all this Maddox?"

The machine answered him. "Naturally. I took a peek before you read. It's a good plan, for all that I know."

Alex sighed. "What do you mean?"

Maddox flickered and then appeared seated next to him. "I'm sentient and have quite a bit more knowledge than you can memorize, but even my predictions can fail."

Alex closed his file. He was finished with the last page anyway. "How?"

Maddox let out what was probably equivalent to a human sigh. "Humans have a certain degree of unpredictability. Furthermore, my algorithms are based in logic and I'm not sure how they account for human emotion."

Alex shrugged. "Makes sense."

Maddox sniffed. "On the contrary, humankind does not."

Alex felt himself laugh. "Then you're in the same boat as the rest of us Maddox."

The hologram sniffed. "It's quite discomfiting."

Alex chuckled. "I wonder what would happen if you met Belinda."

Maddox huffed. "Your psychiatrist? I think not. She would cave at the first threat of interrogation, government or otherwise."

Alex tilted his head. "True, but she fears death above imprisonment, we know that."

Maddox tsked. "It is beside the point, Alex. Besides, the one I wager she fears most is still locked up."

Alex smirked. "Yeah, but we know they won't try the release approach. High probability of escape in transit and all that garbage."

Maddox decided to move on. It was what Alex thought that expression meant. "Speaking of escape probability, we need to discuss options that involve your imprisonment. You have no backing, aside from other operatives and your drug dealer."

Alex gave Maddox a look. "You'd think if I got caught, I'd be dead."

Maddox's hologram got up. "No, you'd be imprisoned in some sort of black site."

Alex twisted his neck a bit. "Aren't those supposed to be impossible to escape from?"

Maddox's normally bland smile turned slightly savage. "Supposed to be is the phrase word here, besides you have me. I'm the best computer in the world, you know."

Alex raised an eyebrow. Was that competition he heard? "I have the chance to dissect their programs better than the makers ever could. Besides, the bugs and cameras are hopelessly easy when one is on the network with administrative access."

Alex just stared at the machine. "And you're bringing this up, why?"

Maddox began pacing. It was an oddly human habit on him. "Your probability of imprisonment just became statistically significant."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "And you're worried about me?"

Maddox whirred. "Worry is not in my programming."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, but you can change on your own, can't you?"

Maddox flickered. "I need a moment of contemplation."

Alex shrugged. "Sure."

He went back to reading. Maddox was surprisingly nice about the whole thing. He wondered how detached the machine actually was.

* * *

Alex wandered back to his house with Fenrir sometime close to when Tom would get home. When he got near his house, there was a familiar figure standing in the street. Nile. Of course, he was here. "Oh, no."

Nile fell into step beside him. Alex made sure the next turn was away from his house. "Oh, yes."

They were now going towards the park. "I could yell for help."

Nile smirked. "I'd be out of jail in an hour."

Alex was having to hold Fenrir's leash to keep him from biting the man. "Yeah, and your boss would then murder you for attracting attention."

Nile looked stumped. "Your dog looks unruly."

Alex was emotionally drained from studying. "Your job is unruly."

Nile chuckled. "True."

Alex loosened his grip and immediately had to tighten it again. "Down, Fenrir."

The wolf seemed reluctant to obey. "So, Yassen?"

Alex rolled his eyes. Nile was nuts if he wanted to gossip about Cossack. "Yes?"

Nile had to speed up his walk. Alex was totally doing it on purpose. "He's, uh, he's got plans."

Alex's tone could have given any desert a run for its money. "I'm aware. Was there something in particular you wanted?"

Nile sighed. "He's not the nicest."

Alex let the eyebrow arch appear on his face. "He sent me a severed head for Christmas."

Nile backed away as he illegally let his dog off the leash. "Just be careful."

Alex couldn't resist inserting the final jab. "Does that include or exclude meeting you?"

Nile had already vanished by the time he turned around. Well, Yassen could not possibly blame him for Nile's stalking. He hoped.

* * *

_-C_

_So, that Nile guy, is he always this stalker-y or am I special?_

_-A_

* * *

Cossack felt a jolt of alarm. He thought he had taken care of that little problem in Australia. Apparently not.

* * *

_-A_

_You are special. Special education, that is. How on Earth do you manage to run into him this time?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex huffed. Yeah, blame the victim, sure, Yassen. Yes, it was totally his fault that Nile had developed some sort of unhealthy obsession. Note the sarcasm.

* * *

_-A_

_And what did you discuss?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex withheld a groan. How did Yassen always know? Most people found him completely unpredictable.

* * *

_-C_

_How do you know we talked at all?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen read the text and nearly snorted. If they hadn't talked, he would eat his shoes. Alex did have a tendency to poke the hornet's nest as well.

* * *

_-A_

_If you didn't, I will eat my boots. Out with it._

_-C_

* * *

Alex would never admit to pouting, but he would admit that this came pretty close. He was tempted to stick his tongue out at the phone as well.

* * *

_-C_

_It was totally not my fault. I was walking my dog in my actual neighborhood and he was just standing in the street._

_-A_

* * *

Yeah, sure, and he was just a nice banker. Try again, Alex. Besides, people like Nile were not exactly known for respecting things like personal boundaries if you let them get away with it.

* * *

_-A_

_No need to hold back for dramatic purposes. Then, what happened?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex rolled his eyes. What did Yassen think was happening when they were meeting up? A tea party?

* * *

_-C_

_I told him that he was a stalker-y creep, like usual. Gave him the semi-polite version of fuck off, like usual. I mean, it was the verbal equivalent of hitting someone with a brick. Then he managed to choke out some sort of half-assed warning about you, which was new. I told him about your special ideas about Christmas. And then he vanished after I out-snarked him, like usual. Anyone normal would be getting a serious pedo-vibe right now._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack let out a long sigh. Because Nile was the kind of man to listen to social niceties, he really was. He was trying to interfere, which was definitely against their agreement. Alex's verbal sparring would appeal on multiple levels to certain people who weren't used to hearing no. Nile was one of the few people who he didn't have a section of personal preferences on. Grr.

* * *

_-A_

_And you didn't shoot him because?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex resisted the urge to facepalm. It wasn't like Nile was death-threatening him or something. Besides, people frowned on that sort of thing and he lived here.

* * *

_-C_

_No death threat and I live here._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen sighed. Honestly, where was Ian Rider in all of this? Probably screwing around with his boyfriend or MI6. Did he think the news wouldn't spread?

* * *

_-A_

_He. Is. A. Wanted. Terrorist. I doubt you would be convicted in English court regardless. Furthermore, you might want to prepare for a severed head soon._

_-C_

* * *

Alex rolled his eyes. Cossack was supposed to be trigger happy, but he wondered why Nile was so high on his shit list without even threatening him first. Wait, what?!

* * *

_-C_

_What?! Why?! It doesn't make any sense._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack felt a grim sort of amusement. Alex did really fail to see their interactions from Nile's perspective.

* * *

_-A_

_Because he believes there is some sort of competition and sending you some sort of physical symbolism of his allegiance is the way to go now._

_-C_

* * *

Well, the man was a murdering psychopath. That combined with their limited interaction would lead him to that conclusion. Nile would see it as a completely normal thing. Then again, in Nile's country of origin, it probably was.

* * *

_-C_

_Competition for what?!_

_-A_

* * *

Ah, Alex. You really don't see it do you. Then again, Yassen had picked the subtle approach for a reason and Nile was about as subtle as a rampaging rhinoceros.

* * *

_-A_

_Whose student you will be._

_-C_

* * *

Alex stared at his phone. Really? Those two were going to make him go prematurely gray as it was. Besides, it wasn't like he was actually in running for a position. Right? He had morals and stuff.

* * *

_-C_

_There is no competition, though._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen inwardly smirked. That Alex knew about. He might have to hunt down and kill Nile if he kept this up, though. It would be a pain in the ass.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes, but he doesn't know that. Nor does he comprehend why we would otherwise be talking. This is someone who does not possess a normal range of human emotion, you realize._

_-C_

* * *

Alex let out a moan. Why was it always him? Couldn't Nile have picked someone else to stalk, like some sort of other kid. His boss? Anyone?

* * *

_-C_

_I'm going to need to think now._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack couldn't resist a snarky reply. He put up with enough of Alex's antics to deserve at least one.

* * *

_-A_

_Don't hurt yourself._

_-C_

* * *

Alex snapped his phone shut to keep himself from telling Yassen to do something anatomically impossible with his phone. Fenrir butted his head against Alex's leg as he slowly began to get up in time for everyone to get home. The phone was quickly stowed away. Jack and Tom came in first. Shorter school hours, you know. Tom walked right up to him and dumped a folder in his lap. "What's this?"

Tom grinned. "Homework. Or did you forget we had it during the joys of home-school?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "And your homework is in my lap, why?"

Tom plopped down next to him. "I need help?"

Alex snorted. Some things never changed. "Uh, huh. What project, paper, or an otherwise unnamed pile of misery did you forget this time?"

Tom gave him a look that belonged on the face of someone who had a relative recently hospitalized. "It was only a little Spanish paper."

Alex rolled his eyes. "They aren't that hard."

Tom gave him a pleading look. "They are when I also have a math project."

Tom started his usual round of begging. Alex gave in on the second round. He was a bit of a sucker for his best friend. "Alright, fine, I'll bloody do it. Don't let it get this late ever again, though."

Tom grinned. "I won't."

They both knew that was a total lie, but Alex wasn't about to say anything. Jack looked on in total amusement that she wasn't even trying to hide. "You could've stepped in anytime there."

Jack smirked. "Oh, but I was enjoying myself far too much."

Tom looked between them. "Alex quit adulting."

Alex grinned. "Tom, are you telling me I shouldn't act more mature? Tsk, tsk. You're a bad influence."

Tom stuck out his tongue. "Yes, yes I am, but you're better off for it."

Jack was choking back her laughter at those two. She had missed the banter, secretly of course. It reminded her of her own family at times. Jack left them to it and wandered into the kitchen. It was nice to have them back.

* * *

Ian wandered in on Tom and Alex bickering over some kind of paper. He was still in a kind of daze after the day he'd been having. Julia Rothman was found dead and nobody knew how or why. They suspected that the body had been frozen for some time, but they didn't know why. She'd been killed with a caliber far higher than necessary to end her life, but they'd found shards that matched bulletproof glass inside her skin, so perhaps they'd shot out the window and then shot her with the same gun. MI6 had been wondering why she'd been so quiet, but Ian supposed one could no longer conduct business when dead. Why let them find the body? They aren't dead unless there is a body. Ian inhaled as he recalled one of his and John's last conversations. Right, they wanted everyone to know she was dead now. Hadn't she been in Venice, though? Why had her coworkers dumped her near enough to Britain that it would be the beach she washed up on? Alex was waving his hand in front of his face. "Anyone home, or did you finally go brain-dead in your old age?"

Crawley burst out laughing behind him. Ian gave Alex the evil eye. "My mind is perfectly fine, brat, and a good afternoon to you, too."

Alex blinked innocently at him. "I was just checking."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Sure you were. What are you and Tom arguing over anyway?"

Alex pulled an innocent look that would fool about ninety percent of the population. "Nothing you adults need to worry about."

Ian wondered if it was worth dragging out of Alex. Probably not. "Alright then, I won't. I need to update a few things in my office. I'll see you at dinner."

Ian walked up the stairs. Alex was physically unable to fire any gun above a certain caliber without injuring himself, so Ian could check at least one (and the most personally important) suspect off the list. That left just a couple hundred more. Rothman had a lot of enemies and dubious coworkers. Oh, boy. Then again, there were only a few people who would be willing to take the hit on a SCORPIA board member. The fact that there had been a delay in the reveal and no visible revenge almost certainly said inside job or that it had been sanctioned by at least a few of her colleagues. Her second-in-command was alive and well, as far as they knew. Surveillance on the island had its benefits. Ian sighed. It didn't much matter, he supposed. The MI6 agent strongly doubted it was anyone particularly friendly to their side who took the hit out on her. He wondered how Alex would take the news.

* * *

Alex stepped into Ian's office with no small amount of trepidation after dinner. Please don't let him have discovered one of my plots. Please don't let him have discovered one of my plots. Ian closed the door behind them. "Take a seat, Alex."

He wondered why Alex looked so nervous. It wasn't like anything bad could happen here. Well, he had taken precautions against it. "Why did you call me here?"

The waiting was a special kind of agony for him. "Well, Julia Rothman was found dead this morning. Jones D-noticed it, so you won't hear about it on the news. I just thought you should know."

Ian could hardly blame his nephew for the relief that was visible across his face. In truth, Ian was quite relieved, too. Rothman had been one of the more vindictive board members and had seemed to forget about Alex, but Ian could never be sure. Now she was no longer a threat to either of them. It was one sigh of relief that he was glad to breathe. That still left Kurst, a man nobody wanted to mess with. He was also quite infamous for his bloody grudge matches with both independent people and organizations. Ian was not about to tell Alex about that, though. Ian vaguely wondered if they would ever attempt to replace deceased members. None of them were getting younger. Then again, it wasn't the type of job you retired from. Ian returned to the present when Alex spoke up. "So how'd she die?"

Ian shrugged. "Got shot."

Alex gave him a goofy grin. "So, uh, I guess she had one shot too many."

Ian snorted with laughter. "Sure. Go do Tom's homework for him."

Alex laughed. "You don't know that."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, I do."

Alex walked out of his office, leaving him alone to write his threat assessment.

* * *

Alex's week went pretty normally for the rest. He knew who murdered Julia Rothman but wasn't about to reveal that fact. Ian would go ballistic. Jones would come sniffing around. Blunt would do one of his creepy visits. Alex didn't really feel like making it family business either. Patrick, while one of the more adult adults in his life, was not really Alex's first choice for a confidante. Darian was still too pliable to make Alex trust him with any kind of secret. Marion was completely batshit, so Alex was only going to tell her in the event that it became necessary for someone to die. At the rate he was going, his new best friend was going to be a computer of debatable sentience and his dog. Fenrir was shedding so much fur, Alex had felt guilty enough to ask Jack if she wanted help vacuuming or using one of those hair-trapping devices. Jack had just given him an amused look and gone back to eyeing a patch of fur with a slightly manic look. Alex had decided it was best to leave her to it and backed away slowly. Fenrir was currently in bed with him. He felt the dog huff next to him. "I hope Sarov likes dogs. I'm not going to Russia without you."

Fenrir huffed and laid a massive paw on him, the yellow eyes met his. "I wonder, how close to human intelligence are you?"

The wolf bopped Alex's hand with its nose. It then raised its ears. "What is it?"

Fenrir got out of bed. Alex grabbed a knife and followed suit. "So, decided to go for the antisocial angle of your insanity plea?"

Alex grinned. "I dunno, Mandy, going for the sleepwalking angle on yours?"

Amanda Teller grinned and sat down on his bed. "Your glorified fluff ball let me sign you up for Russia."

Fenrir walked over to her and woofed. "Yeah, sure. Treachery." Fenrir padded over to him and skimmed his front with his large furry body. The wolf then pulled an innocent look. "Uh, huh, sure."

Mandy grinned. "Aww, you two could audition for the asylum together." Alex couldn't keep himself from laughing at that. "Gotcha, brat."

Alex sighed. "Why are you breaking into my room at two in the morning?"

Mandy waved the comment off. "Not like you're sleeping anyway."

Alex shrugged. "That's fair. I use the same excuse."

Mandy ruffled his hair. Alex half-heartedly shoved her arm. "I would get to it sooner if you didn't have replies to my comments."

Alex gave her a wide-eyed look. "Grow up? Never!"

Mandy swatted him. "Brat."

Alex grinned. "LARP candidate."

Mandy snorted. "Drama class is still lower on the scale in school-land." Alex pulled a mock-serious face. "But drama is a refined British art that has been respected for-"

Mandy promptly shoved a pillow into his mouth. "Puh. I could get some horrid disease."

Mandy shrugged. "Unlikely, dogs aren't that compatible with humans. Besides, you've got health insurance."

Alex snorted. "Now you've done it. I'm going to die of some horrid new disease that transmits between mammals."

Mandy grinned. "Yeah, you definitely need company. That paranoia has definitely begun to set in."

Alex retorted. "Says the one who wanted an untraceable phone."

Mandy got up and sat on his bed. "It's time for me to update you before the next meeting."

Alex got serious. "Yeah, how have things been on your end? Tom and I haven't really been able to have that much private time."

Mandy scooted close enough to touch him. "Yeah, that's part of why I broke in. Tom helped."

* * *

Mandy watched her friend with no small amount of trepidation. "Part of?"

Mandy leaned in close. "Yeah, I wanted to check on you, brat."

Alex returned her hug and moved his head to meet her eyes. She'd never seen his eyes actually reflect his age before. "Miss me?"

Mandy smiled softly. "Always, brat. Nobody argues like you."

Alex laid his head against her shoulder. "I missed you too."

Mandy patted his head. "Anyway, time for updates. The last case you helped on is going well. The school secretary got her paperwork sorted. James took up your habit of making people reconsider bullying younger students. Adrian is finally finishing up school. I get to take my ever-so-lovely GCSEs soon. Gillian is about to go to uni. Nigel still has two years left and is probably going to be an engineer. Karen's supposed to go to some preppy marriage school. Richard is getting a job with his family."

Mandy seemed to forget to breathe. "Breathe Mandy."

Mandy flushed. "Sorry."

Alex and Mandy were both joined by Fenrir. "Everything is just so busy."

Alex noticed the shadows underneath her concealer. "Sleep is important, Mandy."

Mandy seemed to be just barely conscious. "Brat."

Her tone was belied by a huge yawn. "Mmm. Hmm. I'm totally right, though."

Alex watched his friend pass out in his bed. Ah, the horrors of the public education system.

* * *

Fenrir was giving him an indigent look. "She needs the sleep more than we do, fluff."

Fenrir gave him a pleading look. "Alright, just this once, we can go for a walk."

Alex got dressed and grabbed a leash. It was early spring and the night was freezing. Alex found himself taking the route to Tom's old house. The night made the city eerily silent. The house was still burnt to the ground, but if anybody asked, they could hardly blame him for being curious after an appropriate amount of time for his friend to mourn. He moved towards the house. It was time to confirm a suspicion of his. Tom had died last time. Nobody, not even the agents, had seen anybody enter or exit. The thing was, even SCORPIA wasn't that good. There would have to have been an out-of-place repairman or another unknown entrance or it was an inside job or there was gross negligence going on (it would be the first time). Alex intended to find out. "Well, Fenrir, are you ready to look for something?"

Fenrir gave him a look that suggested the wolf mutant was mildly offended. Alex removed his gloves and replaced them with surgical ones, wincing at the cold. He walked through the black, twisted remains, wondering at the destruction. Mankind are the most destructive creatures ever created and also, the most ingenious. Thanks for that cheerful thought, Grim. Always happy to help. What? My burgeoning depression? This is what I get for trying to be philosophical. Aren't you the embodiment of Death or something? Well, yes. Can't you, oh, help me look? I'm the embodiment of death, not the embodiment of architecture and city planning. Fine. No need to get snarky. Pot, shut up. Oh, I love being bound to you eternally, too, Grim. I was under coercement. Of what? Dying? You can't die. Actually… You know what, never mind. The point I was getting to, Shortstack, I hope you lie well. What the fuck Grim? Alex didn't have long to wait. Mrs. Harris was approaching. "What are you doing here?"

Alex sighed. "I'm not really sure. I think I'm checking to see if there's anything left."

Mrs. Harris lapsed into silence. "It's okay. I'm not sure why I'm here either."

It was then Alex realized she was quite drunk. Lovely. "Is he okay? Does he miss me?"

Alex looked at her. It was about Tom, of course. "He's pretty good, Ma'am."

He didn't know her maiden name. "Does he miss me, though?"

Alex wondered if he should tell her the truth. Eh, probably not. "Yeah, I don't think he'd want to see you like this though."

She hiccuped. "No, he wouldn't."

She wandered off. Alex watched her go with the faintest pang of pity. He had a task to get to and she was an adult who made her own choices, though.


	48. Education and Escapades

Alex wandered through the ashes some more before looking at Fenrir. "Well?" The fluff ball had been following him around but had decided to dig through the ashes. Alex was kind of glad. He would already have to bathe Fenrir as it was. Fenrir slowly padded to a spot and let out a yip. Alex walked over and began to gently remove the stuff on top. Trying not to disintegrate the stuff on him. Alex began to brush off the ground where he assumed something was. It felt too smooth for actual ground or foundation. This was more like wood. Maybe it had been fireproofed? "What do you think it is?" Fenrir let out a huff. "Yeah, yeah. I'm getting on it. Not all of us have massive paws the size that can bulldoze a few feet of snow like nothing, you know." Alex felt something metal and decided to clear the area around it. Water could freeze if he used it. Alex sighed and pulled what he hoped was a latch up. It took a surprising amount of force, but it finally moved after his third try. The squeal let out was unnaturally loud. Alex hoped none of the neighbors heard. Once the piece of wood had been lifted, Alex grabbed a flashlight from his backpack. He usually took one with him on the sorts of things. You never knew when you'd have to take an impromptu trip to France or Switzerland. The hole didn't seem too deep. "What do you say, fluff, shall I go in?"

Alex heard a faint rustling. "You know, I don't think the dog can answer back."

Nile was leaning up against a pole. "Don't you have a job or something?"

Nile's lips twitched. He might have smiled once upon a time. "Time off. Gregorovich is a killer."

Alex sighed and began to stand. "And you decided, hey, I've got time off, maybe I should stalk that kid I met in a train. Really?"

Nile shrugged. "Well, the family's dead or pieces of shit. You know how it is."

Alex felt snippy. "Fuck off."

The man didn't seem to pay him any mind, though he began moving towards him. Nile's eerie feline grace was unnerving, especially since he knew what it warned of. "Manners."

Alex sighed. "Is there a point you're getting to?"

Nile shrugged. "Yeah, don't go in there."

Alex gave him a look. "And why not?"

Nile was unnaturally calm. Alex wondered if being around Rothman had really made him that temperamental. This was more Yassen than the Nile he remembered. "Check the upper side of the trapdoor."

Alex brushed off the top that he had left alone in favor of the latch. It was a silver scorpion he recognized all too well. "If you ever see that symbol again, walk away."

Alex huffed. Nile had a point. "Why?"

Alex had a purpose after all. Leaving SCORPIA alone was not part of it. "Because it's trouble even Gregorovich and I can't get you out of."

Nile vanished after that. Alex knew the trick, but still thought it was incredibly creepy. He needed to think.

* * *

Nile walked off into the snow. Silent. Deadly. Damn, he was totally and utterly obsessed. Was this how Gregorovich felt? He wondered. Blondie was entertaining, but he was like a human cat. Small, fluffy, gets into everything and had a swipe or two ready if you got too close. Well, he tried. Besides, he was actually telling the truth, mostly. If SCORPIA proper found him, Alex's placement would be out of his hands and Cossacks. It would be a board decision. Grrr. That and he was getting rather attached to the idea of poaching him right under Gregorovich's nose. Yeah, they'd get along fine. Good family members were dead. A few shitty live ones. Nile figured they had a lot in common. He'd committed his first murder only a few years older than Blondie. The only question was when. He'd prefer a student that was almost an adult, but he had no idea when Yassen was planning on kidnapping Blondie. Fourteen, fifteen, sixteen? That would be his three guesses. Any older would be too old in Yassen's book. Nile was decently sure the man was not about to put up with anyone under the age of thirteen. That left him a very short window. Plus, Russia was not exactly board member free. It hadn't taken too much effort to find out about Blondie's exchange program. It had been blasted on just about every major news program, after all. Nile had snorted. Politicians just loved patting each other on the back. Nile sighed. Chase was letting him wander around for months on end. He may as well put it to good use. Besides, it was still close enough to get Blondie a birthday present. The irony was, his 'gift' would likely still arrive before Ian Rider remembered the date. Well, who was he to mess with tradition? Yassen had already sent a severed head. Nile wondered what sort of dead people Blondie liked. Was it drug dealers? Or just the fact that the dude was in Alex's neighborhood? Post-mortem or pre-mortem decapitation? He could do either, you know. The sword was good for that sort of thing. It wasn't like he could outright ask Cossack either. Oh well, he'd figure something out eventually. He had time. Maybe somebody who'd pissed him off? He'd eat his shoes if the house burning down had nothing to do with Blondie. House-burning sans murder was usually personal. So, why had he burned the house down? Nile used that sort of thing as intimidation, but there were plenty of other reasons to torch a house…

* * *

Alex Rider got home to a very grumpy set of adults. Damn, he'd forgotten about leaving a note and he'd left his cell phone behind. Fenrir followed him in. "Do you have any idea how worried we've been?!"

Alex sighed. "No, not really. Mandy could have told you I went for a walk."

Ian nearly dropped his coffee cup. "What does Te-er-Amanda have to do with this?"

Alex picked up a plate of Jack's cooking. "You know, tall, black hair and nails-"

Ian glared at him. "I bloody well know who your friends are."

Alex continued in the same monotone. "Visited me last night and currently passed out in my bed."

That woke Jack up. "What?!"

Alex resisted the urge to flush. "Not like that. It was just talking and sleeping."

Crawley sighed into his coffee and muttered something about getting too old for this. "Why, pray tell, are your friends breaking into the house?"

Alex let a cheeky grin cross his face. "They just miss me that bad."

Tom rolled his eyes and swiped extra chocolate chips while the adults weren't looking. Crawley groaned into his cup. "That line is older than you and Ian, _combined_."

Alex gave Crawley his best 'butter won't melt in my mouth' look. Crawley shook his head. "Riiight. Back to your disappearing act. Where were you?"

Alex shrugged. "Went for a walk. Nothing too dodgy."

He went to the table, took a bite of his breakfast, and sat down. "By the way, your mother is now a homeless alcoholic, Tom."

Tom didn't even look vaguely sad, which was telling. "Can't say I didn't see it coming. She didn't bug you too much, did she?"

Alex shrugged. "Naw, I lied and said you missed her, but I don't think she'll stop by unannounced or anything."

Tom looked pleased. "Good."

Jack coughed. "You met a drunk lady on your own?"

Alex dumped more sugar in his coffee. "Not on purpose. I just happened to stop by the area."

Jack gave him a long look. "Don't do it again and invite your friend down for breakfast."

Alex went up the stairs. "Of course, Jack."

* * *

The door to his room was opened quietly. He gently ran his hand through Mandy's hair; she stirred. Alex moved his hand to her shoulder and lightly tapped. Mandy woke up with a start and inhaled sharply. "Oh, no."

Alex grinned. "Relax, your active sex life might improve your social standing."

Mandy swatted him and got up. "Brat."

Alex felt a familiar savage grin cross his face. "Social reject."

Mandy tossed her already messy hair. "Deviant."

Alex put on a mock-innocent face. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Mandy arched her back in an attempt to stretch. Alex winced at the loud pops. He could sympathize. Mandy picked up the small bag that Alex hadn't noticed in the low light from the night before. "I'm borrowing your shower."

Alex didn't have a problem with it. "You might wanna come down for breakfast first. The adults think you might have besmirched my person, milady."

Mandy snorted. "Fat chance, but I'll eat. I'm starving."

She brushed her hair with one of those cheap plastic brushes Alex knew hurt people with long hair. Sabina and her mother had complained about them every time they saw them in the drug store. It was funny, he hadn't thought of her in a while. Living together as siblings had gotten rid of most of their chemistry. It was a shame, but they had both moved on. Her ambitions hadn't really aligned with his either. The job she wanted drew attention by its very nature and he had wanted to avoid it. Looking back, he should not have gotten involved with anybody, let alone somebody who couldn't take care of themselves. Sabina had self-defense lessons, but it wasn't really a match for his enemies (past enemies?). Oh, well. He had a nice group of friends to support him into lonely hermit-hood or whatever. Alex had decided to avoid her if he could. It wasn't that he didn't care for her, but he didn't want the family dragged into his world by their very association with him. "You okay?"

Ah, Mandy. Alex was dragged back to the present. "Yeah, just a million miles away."

Mandy harrumphed. "One of these days, I'll find out where you go."

Alex felt a faint smile twist his lips. Not likely. No one could ever know what really happened.

* * *

They descended the stairs together. Alex felt warm all over. The burn of sleep deprivation was already in the back of his throat. If he closed his eyes for too long he would just go to sleep. He missed getting the ten solid hours like he once had in the past life. Fenrir looked energized the furry fucking rat. Mandy gave him an amused look. Alex just registered the fact that the entire table had been attempting to get his attention. "You know, maybe that three a.m. trek was a bad idea."

Alex grinned. "I'll never admit it."

Mandy smirked. "Stubborn brat."

Alex picked up his fork. "And you just now realized it? Are you sure that Nicki's pot smoke didn't permanently damage your brain? I mean, you should really get that checked out just to be sure."

Mandy's spoon sailed past his ear even as he instinctively dodged and caught it. His reflexes were still running low-key from his encounter with Nile. Mandy's mouth fell open. Tom stared. "Huh, lucky catch."

Alex gave Tom a mischief-filled look. "Lucky, eh? Watch this."

He was patently ignoring Crawley's warning looks. Alex took a second to aim and tossed the spoon at her coffee cup. It spun end over end and promptly landed in the cup, sloshing about a fourth of the liquid out. Tom gave him a star-struck look. "That was the most awesome moment of my life."

Jack rolled her eyes and muttered about boys and testosterone. Crawley managed to regain the power of speech. "Okay, no more projectile silverware."

Ian was shaking with suppressed laughter. Crawley looked at him. Ian cleared his throat. "I mean, um, that was wrong and you shouldn't throw your silverware, you two."

Ian promptly exited the room. Alex could clearly hear the man laughing his ass off in the other room. Crawley rolled his eyes. "Please don't do that in view of the general public. We don't want people asking questions about uncivilized heathenry."

Alex felt the need to immediately protest. "But uncivilized heathenry is fun."

Crawley sighed. "Yes, but it also gets you a nice night in jail for disturbing the peace."

Then, he picked up his briefcase and followed Ian into the living room.

* * *

Mandy gave him a mischievous look as soon as Crawley left the room. "Killjoy, that one."

Jack immediately interjected. "Oh, no you don't. I am _not_ cleaning up another food fight."

Alex gave her a look that was far too hopeful and innocent. "So if we clean up our mess can we still have one?"

Jack gave him a glare. "No. I should ground you for the suggestion."

Alex grinned. "Oh, but you won't."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "And why not?"

Alex retorted. "Because unless something has drastically changed, I do believe Brooklands starts in twenty minutes and it is a thirty-minute tube ride with the morning line set-up and an even longer drive."

One look at the clock told Jack her favorite hellion child was, in fact, right. "Shi-uh, you didn't hear that. Alright you two, time to move."

Alex watched in bemusement as everybody hustled out of the house; running about ten minutes late would do that. They did, to their credit, get out in about three minutes flat. Mandy attempted to protest her lack of shower and was immediately shut down. Alex brushed his teeth, walked out and sat in the car. He wondered if they would notice him in the car before they got to school. The three of them were so wrapped up in checking their stuff that they didn't notice him until they got to school. "What are you doing here?"

Alex shrugged. "I can't visit my old school and fondly recall the screeching of the bells, now? What is this country coming to?"

Jack glared at him through the rear-view mirror. "I give up. It's Bray's problem if you burn down the school on your tour."

Alex laughed outright. Mandy and Tom had to run in as the second bell rang. Alex could just saunter in whenever he wanted. Tours didn't start for another hour, but they did _say_ to arrive early for check-in. Alex attempted to scrub the shit-eating grin off his face as he walked into the Vice Principal's office. "Hi, I'd like to get a spot in the nine o'clock tour."

The non-sleep mania was strong with him. Mr. Bray stared at him before handing him the paperwork. "I _am_ an alum."

The man snorted. "Only you, Alex, only you. Try not to wreak havoc, some of our teachers have heart problems, you know."

Alex widened his eyes. "I claim to have no such knowledge of any such events."

Bray took back the clipboard after he finished. "I taught you in drama class."

Alex ruefully shrugged. "Fair. I'll behave, though."

The vice principal filed his papers and handed him a sticker name badge. "How's the home school?"

Alex stuck it on his chest, even though the whole school pretty much knew who he was. "Good. I'm an alternate in that program on TV."

Bray smiled. "Yes, we know. Ms. Teller just can't seem to contain herself. Try not to break any hearts."

Alex shook his head. "I'll do my best."

_I already have_.

* * *

As it turned out, no sane adult actually signed up for the nine o'clock school tour. Case in point, Nile and a couple showed up five minutes before and asked to go on said tour. Alex barely contained his reaction when he showed up. Shit, shit, shit. Nile turned up looking like he had either murdered a cow or had an accident with a faucet. Since he was wearing black, you couldn't tell. Alex hoped it wasn't blood. He really did. The couple got eyeballed a little longer. Mainly because they were having a bickering match. Alex wondered why the hell Nile showed up to a freaking school of all places. Alex hadn't even decided to come here until this morning. "Can't wait to get your stalker points for the day, can you?"

Nile cheerfully put on his visitor badge. "Oh, you know me, I can't get enough of them. Besides, what you call stalker points, I call awesome points. It's all a matter of perspective."

_Yes, and you're a murdering psychopath_. The school secretary smiled and waved at him. Alex gave her a smile right back. "How's the home-school?"

Nile seemed way too happy for some reason. "Fu-I mean, it's going well, thank you."

Alex started with his usual retort but realized he had an audience and grit his teeth. "So you can be civilized."

Alex glanced around and the bell rang. "Fuck me."

Alex thought his muttering was inaudible with the crowd and the bell going until Nile suddenly replied. "When and where?"

Alex choked but managed to raise an eyebrow. "And you wonder why I want that restraining order."

Nile glanced around. "Won't do you one bit of good."

Alex gave him a less than thrilled look. "So, why are you at school in full gear and looking like someone who murdered a cow?"

They had been there for about ten minutes. "How did you know it was blood?"

Alex grimaced. "Water fades out, blood stains brown."

Nile gave him a weird look and it was only then Alex remembered it was an infamous saying of Gordon Ross's. Oops. "You don't happen to know anybody in the IRA, do you?"

Alex snorted. "Wrong degenerate-filled school for that crowd, Nile. You'd have to go to Ireland proper."

The secretary and the couple were waving them over impatiently on the other side of the hallway. They both gracefully crossed the hallway in seconds. Ms. Bedfordshire gave them a considering look. "Are you two related, Alex?"

Alex shook his head. "No ma'am, I met him at one of Ian's business conferences we went to."

Nile smirked his way after the rest of the group had their backs turned. Alex was tempted to flip him off but didn't want to draw attention to himself. The tour seemed to go on agonizingly slowly, especially once it was socially acceptable for the couple to begin bickering. "We should definitely-"

Alex hadn't bothered to learn their names. The school secretary was doing an admirable job of attempting to plow through the tour at a fast pace. "The extracurriculars are-"

Alex was almost able to tune out reality until they went to the first lunch round.

* * *

Alex was used to the standard of school lunches and had worked out a system to scam the decent bits of lunch off of the lunch ladies whenever Jack or Ian forgot to give him lunch. Plus, there were a few weirdos who liked (and would trade for) really specific things. He got back after Nile and Ms. Bedfordshire, but before the couple. Nile took one look at his tray and raised an eyebrow. "How is it that our lunches look completely different?"

Ms. Bedfordshire glanced over. "The gentleman has a point."

Alex smirked. "I know people."

Nile rolled his eyes. "How much are the bribes to the lunch ladies?"

Alex took a convenient bite of the apple. The school secretary sighed. "I think I'd like to know, too. Do you know how many of these I've had to suffer through?"

Alex stared at both of them. "Such corruptive influences. I'm amazed you're allowed around kids."

Nile snorted. Ms. Bedfordshire looked utterly serious. "Dude, I just asked nicely and then traded about three people who actually like specific colors of the cafeteria garbage. Don't ask me why. I think one of them sniffed glue in the lower forms, but whatever."

The two adults didn't quite pout, but it came pretty close. The couple found them after about five more minutes, but so did Tom and James. "Hey, guys."

Tom grinned. "How's the school tour going?"

James managed to sandwich himself between him and Nile. Alex made a mental note to get him chocolate. "Yeah, did your lonely butt miss me so much you're putting up with the boredom just for me?"

Alex laughed. That look spelled trouble. "Dream on, Jamie."

Alex took another bite. "Damn, how many lunch ladies did you screw to get that?"

Alex kept a straight face at the couple's horrified looks. "There were no clothes removed."

James grinned. "So the pants stayed _on_ this time, good to know."

Nile was shaking with suppressed laughter and Ms. Bedfordshire was not doing much better. Alex fired back. "I stole your cross-dressing gear."

James gave as good as he got. "I had sex on your piano."

Alex didn't even own a piano. He mock clutched his heart. "Ah, Jamie, that was a family heirloom."

The couple got up and the man glared at them. "I think we've seen enough."

The two all but ran out of the school. "Oops."

James looked at him. "What could boy wonder possibly have done wrong?"

Alex couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face. "I did promise Mr. Bray I would behave."

Tom smirked. "You were engaging your friends in conversation and improving your standard of living. Brooklands tolerates students of all races, religion, and sexualities."

James sniggered at Tom's reply. "Congratulations Tom, here's your degree in bullshit - I mean, literature analysis."

The school secretary interjected. "Language, boys."

Nile seemed to be having breathing difficulties. Alex wasn't about to intervene. Tom and James had class shortly after managing to snarf down their lunches. He didn't pout, but it was a close thing.

* * *

Nile managed to regain his ability to breathe normally after Blondie's friends left. Damn, that was hilarious. At least those two idiots were no longer in a very tempting range of him. He had a feeling the kid wouldn't take it well if both ended up with a bad case of fractured hyoid bones. Nile was sad to see them go. It had been a while since he'd met any kind of joker. They tended not to last very long in the company. People got huffy, so everybody had to be ultra-polite. Or good enough at hand-to-hand to not get maimed. Alex was pouting, or, well, his version of it. At least they would get to finish sometime before midnight now that Nasty and Trashy were out of the school secretary's hair. Oh, man, Nile had missed people with actual wits. Yeah, he terrified the shit out of most people who knew who he was, but sometimes he wished they'd grow a spine. Then again, it might make his job significantly harder… He rose from the table to follow Alex. It was the longest they'd gone without a restraining order jab in his direction. It was almost unnatural. Blondie acting civilized for more than sixteen whole seconds at a time. Nile was waiting for one after they finished the tour. C'mon, C'mon. Snarky remark time. "So how far should I get my distance for? Fifty feet, one hundred feet or two hundred feet?"

Nile smirked. "I can watch you through a sniper scope equally well on any of those."

The kid flashed his teeth. "Yeah, that sounded totally wholesome and appropriate."

Nile snorted. He'd bet money Yassen threatened the kid with dismemberment at least once. "I'm preparing you for the real world."

Blondie's eyes danced. "Of what? International crime?"

Nile shook his head. "You say that now, but you never know."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, Nile, my law-abiding ass is going to one day decide: hey, let's go out and break fifteen laws."

Nile raised an eyebrow and muttered. "Law-abiding, my ass."

Alex gave him the evil eye. "I mostly follow them."

Nile just kept looking at him. "Okay, I don't, but I'm not like your lot."

Nile gave him a look. "What? You know it's true."

Nile mentally sighed. "I wouldn't be so sure."

With that, he vanished into the afternoon London crowd.

* * *

Alex stared longer after Nile's departure than he would like to admit. _Murdering terrorist._ He reminded himself. _Murdering terrorist._ Alex wondered whether it was possible to develop Stockholm Syndrome from being stalked. Probably. Welp, on the cheerful and mildly insane note of the day, he was going back to his studies. He didn't want to risk Nile linking his visits to Pierre's replies, so Switzerland was definitely out. Actually, for the sake of Ian's sanity, he probably shouldn't leave the country for a while. Alex looked around only to instantly regret coming to the school today. Jones. Wonderful. Didn't she have a nine-to-five job? With possibly longer hours? Alex made the attempt to walk in the opposite direction but was foiled by a stoplight. "Can I help you? Maybe give you the number of my therapist?" Jones fixed him with a steely glare. "She's great and you can ask Ian for the file."

The woman sighed. "Have you seen a man around here?"

Alex felt like being deliberately unhelpful today. At least _Yassen_ outright death-threated you. "I've seen lots of men today. You might want to clarify."

Tulip glared at him. "I've been playing semantics since before you were born. Nile. Griffon."

Alex didn't even flinch. "I've got no idea who you're talking about." Jones' eyes flashed dangerously. "Good luck finding him, though. I have to go."

Alex took off in a dead run. He could easily outpace Tulip Jones, mainly because the dress code for her position required shoes (among other clothing) that were fairly inconvenient to run in. Alex kept up a jog for way longer than most people could. It was a benefit that came with his daily and very extreme workout. He ended up at the dojo after a while. Alex sat down on the curb. He had his uniform with him (backpacks were wonderful inventions), but as far as he knew, the lessons for the upper levels were at the end of the week. It couldn't hurt to go in. Alex couldn't recall a single person ever protesting the sheer amount of people doing homework in the lobby area. The door swung open to the almost empty lobby. Alex had barely broken a sweat, but he still decided to drink some water before sitting down and cracking open his own books. It was a few hours before anybody actually noticed he was there. Sensei came out with an amused glance. "Your class is not for another three days and the health department says I'm not allowed to rent the common area out as a residence."

Alex snapped his biology book shut. One of Charles' last recommendations. "Tsk, tsk. Have people actually tried?"

The man's amused twist of the lips was barely visible for half a second. "You would be surprised."

Alex jammed his book back in his bag. "Is there something I can help you with?"

Alex shrugged. "No thanks, I'm headed back home now."

The man raised an eyebrow. "A bit of a long walk."

Alex grinned. "But shorter than a drive with the London traffic."

The man turned back toward his office. "You're not wrong. I'll see you on Thursday."

Alex zipped his bag and walked out. That had been surprisingly nice.

* * *

Alex walked into a very tense living room. Yeah, he was definitely shit at remembering to leave notes and the like. "Where were you?"

Alex grinned. Same old Ian. "I took a school tour and went for a walk. Really now, I'm on time for dinner and everything."

Ian shook his head. "Did you at least do something productive?"

Alex shrugged. "I worked on some of my stuff."

Ian sighed. "I suppose you followed all of the rules. Loosely."

Alex could practically feel the smug smirk coming from Jack's area, but couldn't, for the life of him, figure out why. "Well, you never were a stickler for the spirit of the law or the letter of it, for that matter."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Laws, meh. Come on it's dinner time."

Crawley looked like he was holding back a few choice words as everybody went towards the kitchen. Alex was left unpacking some of his bag in the living room. He felt a shit-eating grin appear on his face. "C'mon, Crawley, you know you want to say it."

Crawley ran his hands through his hair. Alex watched the man's jaw twitch. "No. I, unlike the rest of your degenerate family, do have something that resembles self-control."

Alex raised an eyebrow in Ian's general direction. "That's different."

The bubble of hysterical laughter was harder for Alex to keep back than he would have initially thought. "By the way, Jones is not happy with you."

Alex gave Crawley his cheekiest grin. "It's a travesty."

Crawley groaned. "You're going to give me grey hair and then die in some horrid arctic wasteland from that attitude."

Alex tossed his last book onto the coffee table. "Oh, but that means my life will have been worthwhile. Only special, special people get sent to the Arctic by MI6, you know."

Crawley burst out laughing. Oh, it was such an Ian joke. "You are terrible, just terrible, at being a functional member of society."

Alex grinned. "Oh, and whose fault is that _most important agent of socialization_."

Crawley rolled his eyes. The kid had definitely been reading too many sociology textbooks. "I blame Ian."

Alex let a sort of wry grin cross his face. "Don't we all?"

Crawley huffed. "No, the real question is: are we right?"

Alex gave a half-shrug. "Suit yourself. Besides, I'm self-aware enough that I know I'm partially to blame for my own problems."

Alex vividly remembered the circumstances in which he chose to put his own life in danger. Sure he'd been manipulated, but in the end, he'd let himself go along with it. "Well then, you're further along in life than most people get."

At that, they joined the rest for dinner.

* * *

Jack Starbright was happy. Alex seemed to have decided to be more independent of Ian. Not that she wanted to completely trash the man, but he really made a terrible parent. She wasn't sure she believed he went just for a walk for over five hours, but she was willing to let it go. Then again, Alex was the type to enjoy walking around for hours on end. Heaven knew that dog got enough outside time. Jack was glad Alex had gotten the massive thing, even though it had created more work for her. There was only so many hours she could stand to walk outside. Plus, she sunburned way easier than he did. Alex actually got tanned. It was so unfair. She burned to a crisp as a redhead. Fenrir was a wonderful family pet. Alex seemed to have actually been responsible and trained him properly with a minimum of property destruction involved. The furball took turns between her and Tom's beds when he was gone. Then, the stupid fluff ball went straight back to him. Jack had just started getting used to having it in bed beside her. Oh well, it would cut down on the amount of fur on her sheets. Jack didn't blame Alex one iota for any of his disappearances. Ian disappeared without a trace for months at a time. Alex, at least, kept it two weeks and under. Plus, he did usually leave a note. Mostly. Okay, so he was bad at notes. It was probably deliberate because of the amount of shit Ian had pulled. Overtime? No calls. Business Trip? You were lucky if you found out the day before. School events? Hardy, har. Birthdays? Forgot 'em two years in a row. Case in point, Ian still hadn't remembered and it had been nearly a month. For fucks' sake, she almost hoped Alex ran away to teach him a lesson. Not really, but she was pissed. At least Alex was making light of it. He and Tom seemed to think that she didn't notice the ongoing bet between them. It seemed to be a "for every day he doesn't remember, I'll give you fruit snacks I traded for at lunch" type of bet. Apparently, Tom hadn't quite believed the man had actually forgotten. Oh, she could tell him quite a few things that were unbelievable, but she didn't want those two making a go of it on their own. Tom wouldn't have to try too hard. She was sure of it. Jack smiled over the dishes as the two bantered where they thought she didn't hear them.

* * *

Alex Rider was waiting, waiting. He wasn't sure what was about to happen, but he kept going through the motions. Surprisingly, it was Gillian who noticed. "What's up?"

Alex blinked. "I haven't the foggiest clue what you're talking about."

Gillian snorted. "Sure you don't. Let me know when you want to talk."

Alex sighed. "Ever get the feeling you're forgetting something?"

Gillian shrugged. "Yeah, all the time. All these little gestures. It's exhausting."

Alex patted Gillian's shoulder. "It'll come with time."

The almost-adult brushed face against his hand. "I want to believe you, you know."

Alex gave the sort of long-suffering grin he might've given Sabina during their last trip. "Adulting is better."

Alex found himself with a close-up view of a pair of irises. "You say it as though you know it."

Alex let himself give a half-smile. "You never know."

Gillian walked off leaving him alone in the now darkened dining room. A fluttering noise was in the background. He should really know better than to investigate it, but he was drawn to the noise. Alex hesitated, hand hovering above the handle, before opening the door to the back garden. There was a flash and then a thud. Nile was there. Alex had a gun in hand before he even consciously recognized the fact. "You can _not_ just show up here."

Nile smirked and got up. "I think I just did."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Let me rephrase that. If you do it again, I'll forgo the police and simply shoot you in the ass."

Nile just smirked. Alex clicked the safety off. The smirk faded. "Fine, fine. It won't happen again."

Alex carefully put the gun away. "What do you want, now?"

Nile grinned. "I thought you weren't speaking to me."

Alex gave him a look. "Well, since you scaled the twelve-foot fence and fell out of a tree, it must be important."

Nile scowled at him. "Can you not mention that part?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Somehow, it doesn't lessen the creep factor at all. It's like the reverse X-factor. If someone has it, ignore them and stay the fuck away."

Nile felt his lips twitch despite himself. "I'm not that bad."

Alex gave him the evil eye. "You are _literally_ stalking a twelve-year-old."

Nile shrugged. "I haven't done anything particularly nasty yet."

Alex rolled his eyes. _Terrorists_ , honestly. "Moving on."

Nile slinks a few steps closer. Alex was tempted to get out his gun again. "You don't need to be that jumpy."

_Oh, contraire._ But then, Nile didn't know about that part. "You had a point you were getting too."

Nile grinned. "Tsk, so terse, did you learn all your manners from Yassen?"

Alex felt a smirk appear. "I dunno, did you learn yours at finishing school?"

Nile's eyes danced. "Of a certain kind."

Alex mentally smacked himself for responding. Alex began slowly backing towards the door. Nile stepped closer, just about invading his personal space. "Happy birthday. You'll get your gift tomorrow."

Alex blinked in surprise. Nile seemed to vanish into thin air. Alex quickly went back inside, triple-checking the lock. Alex let out a breath and leaned into the wall. Well, shit. He felt an all-too-familiar stab in the chest. It shouldn't hurt, but it bloody did. Freaking Nile remembered before Ian. It took just about everything he had not to start sobbing on the spot. If he was actually twelve, he would have. Now, at mentally eighteen, he took a deep breath, mentally screamed, and got on with his life.

* * *

Alex let the dread and anticipation thrum through him. Hey, you never knew what the crazy murdering psychopath would get you. It was probably dead bodies. Alex was almost curious enough to ask, but he had a feeling Nile liked ruining his sleep cycle with the suspense. Yassen had said something about severed heads, but Alex wasn't sure if the man was serious. He probably was. Speaking of Yassen, he should probably let the man know Nile was upping the stalking activities. Ian was busy this Saturday, so Jack came to pick them up. Alex did his best not to seem impatient. He _was not_ going to take out his current angst on Jack or Tom. Blowing up at people who didn't deserve it wasn't really his style anyway. Jack gave him a wry look. "Your adorable fluff ball tried to eat your breakfast again."

Alex grinned. "Can't really blame him, you know. Stolen food is the best food."

Jack's eyes glimmered with unshed tears of laughter. "Oh, really?"

Alex gave her one of his slightly manic grins. "Yep, followed by the food you conned people out of, the food you shouldn't eat, but totally do, and lastly food made by other people."

Jack burst out laughing. Tom just shook his head. "Alex, you degenerate, you."

Jack was still gasping for breath by the time they were going through the front door. "Oh, Alex, never change."

Alex ran his hand through Fenrir's fur with a softer smile on his face. "I don't intend to."

Jack practically ran across the room when she realized she accidentally left the oven on. "At least there was no fire alarm this time."

Jack flushed. "Oh, hush. You blew up how many appliances when you were seven?"

Alex gave her a careless shrug. "Are we counting deliberate or accidental?"

He said it with his best innocent face. Jack rolled her eyes. "Only, you would need that distinction, Alex."

Tom smirked in the corner. "Don't even think of starting, Tom."

Tom grabbed a plate off the counter. "But, Alex, you make such a fine pyromaniac. You've even got the _dark, soulful_ eyes."

Alex grabbed a plate and made sure Jack's back was turned before flipping his friend off. "Shut up, Tom."

Tom pranced over to his chair. "Oh, but why? I've got five years of you and Hale to make up for."

Alex grinned. "We should invite him over."

Tom shook his head. "Nah, we can go visit him. It's not like his folks mind if we just pop by."

Alex shrugged. "True. Don't you have homework?"

Tom pouted. "It's not due until Monday and I'll have _all_ of Sunday."

Alex rolled his eyes. Tom was always terrible about this kind of thing. "Why don't we finish it first and go to James' on Sunday?"

Tom huffed. "Fine."

He went upstairs to get his school bag. Jack gave Alex a warm look. "Thank you. He only listens to you sometimes."

Alex pulled a clearly faux innocent look. "I have no earthly idea what you are talking about."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Sure you don't. I think it's a good thing you look after your friends."

Alex gave her a soft look. "I do my best. If you guys were gone, the world wouldn't be enough to keep me happy, so I do my best to make people not gone, y'know."

Jack gave him a soft look. "I love you, you know."

Alex gave her an even softer look. It was the most emotion he'd allowed himself to display since he'd been back. Besides, this was the perfect chance. "I love you too, Jack."

Jack felt her breathing stop from the sheer amount of emotion. She barely responded to Alex's gentle hug. The Alex she met years ago would never have admitted as much. Jack felt the tears beginning to come. "What's wrong? You're crying."

Oh, Alex. "Nothing. You did everything right."

She left to go to her room as Tom came down. The dishes could wait. Tears of joy were a wonderful thing.

* * *

"What was that about?"

Alex gave Tom a half-shrug. He knew exactly what had set Jack off, but revealing as much would be out of character for the twelve-year-old he was playing. "Dunno. It wasn't me, I think."

Tom shook his head. "Never mind. Let's get started."

The usual homework argument started up. "Can you do my maths for me?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I can. The question is: will I?"

Tom gave him a pleading look. "Pleeeeease."

Alex scowled. It wasn't genuine and they both knew it. "How are you going to learn it if I do it for you?"

Tom pouted. "It's useless in the real world anyway _and_ I have the English History essay from hell due."

Alex mock sighed. "And why didn't you start that essay earlier?"

Tom grinned. "I was busy."

Alex retorted. "With what, TV? The homework leaves you with two hours free on weekdays on of which could have been used for the said essay."

Tom huffed. "But I wanted to spend time with you and Fenrir more."

Alex felt his heart melt a little. He really couldn't keep up his scowl. "Alright. Just this once, you hear me. I'm not doing your maths homework ever again after this."

They both knew it was a complete and total lie. Alex would do Tom's maths homework until the end of time if it kept his friend happy and they both knew it. He got started. It took Alex less than fifteen minutes. This was basic algebra after all. He was studying engineering at a college level. Tom stared at him. "You know you're some sort of mutant, right?"

Alex laughed his ass off at that one. Yeah, he was unusual. "Oh, entirely. But I'm your mutant and you are stuck living with me."

Tom snorted. "Yeah, such a tragedy."

His friend, in the meantime, had taken one look at the essay requirements and put his head in Alex's lap. Tom looked up at him hopefully. "No, I'm not writing your bloody essay. The teachers _will_ actually know the difference."

Tom continued to give him a pleading look. "Fine. I'll grab you good sources from the library and mark the helpful sections."

Tom grinned. "You have to get off of me for me to do that."

Tom moved, but even more on top of him. "Nope. Not moving."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Why not?"

Tom grinned. "I'm holding you hostage until you write my essay."

Alex sighed and promptly flipped his friend face first into the other couch. "Mmph."

Alex grinned. "I'll just go get those books now."

Tom flipped him off and said something into the couch. "Mmmm. NNN."

Alex whistled as he walked out of the room. He pulled the books off of the shelf in quick succession. They were the ones Ian used to teach him out of and later had him read as a child. The sticky notes were exactly where they should be. Alex pulled a few off and stuck them in relevant chapters. He began walking back towards the living room with a few extra stickies.

* * *

It was just before lunch hour that Alex decided to leave Tom on his own for a bit and stepped out into the back garden. The cold air bit at him and shook off any sleepiness he may have had. Fenrir padded up next to him. "Sure, you can come."

Alex stepped out into the garden and beyond the cover of the bushes and his mouth fell open. Fenrir pressed up close to him. Holy fucking shit. That was way beyond what he expected. What in the actual fuck did Nile hope to accomplish with that little display? It was completely and utterly sick. "Alex?"

Alex snapped his mouth shut. "Call Ian and Crawley _now_ , Tom, and don't go out this way."

Tom paled. "Okay."

Alex had walked into a grotesque version of dinner with three men and a woman. There was a man at the head of the table with his throat and torso ripped open. The eyes had also been torn out. The second man had his stomach removed and placed next to him. The third had his head removed and placed in the center of the table, next to a brutally mutilated deer. The woman had been blonde and had her heart torn out and placed next to the deer on the opposite side as well. Alex was barely keeping his breathing even. Well, that wrecked the day quite nicely. Tom handed him a phone. "Yeah, Ian, another murderer sent me bodies," Ian swore over the phone line. "No, Ian, it's just fantastic. He really outdid himself."

Ian sighed. "He?"

Alex shrugged. "Statistically more likely, don't you think?"

Ian all but hissed over the phone. "I'll be right over. Is there a note?"

Alex checked the mail. He knew exactly which envelope was guilty. "Uh, yeah. But I figured I should wait to open it."

Ian sounded almost less tense for a second. "Alright."


	49. Technicality and Crime Tape

The police had a shockingly fast reaction time whenever Ian was involved. Was there some sort of special pass that MI6 agents got attached to their police summoning? Or were they actually run by MI6 and just posing as police? Alex figured he could worry about that later. Now, what was Nile implying? A man with his eyes ripped out. Being blind. A man with no guts. A man with no brain and a woman with no heart. They were seated at a table together. Who was who, though? The woman was...Rothman? Jones? Marion? The man with no guts. Ash? Blunt? Darion? The man with no brain. Alex wondered. Blunt was considered a lot of things, but not unintelligent. Nile knew Yassen was smart. Ian? Crawley? Patrick? The man with no eyes. Ian? Patrick? Blunt? For all of MI6's intelligence, they refused to consider the possibility that he might be intentionally sheltering people. Or rather, Ian did and Blunt didn't take it seriously. The deer, though. Why include the deer? Alex turned his gaze toward the letter he was still waiting on opening. Normal children wait for the adults, he reminded himself. Despite the elaborate calligraphy that seemed to belong to a woman and the stiff stationery that looked like the letter would have real gold trim, Alex knew the letter would be as sinister and dark as its sender. Alex felt his fingers twitch with the temptation to open it. Ian was the first on the scene next to him. There was a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, fancy seeing you here."

Ian chuckled, ignoring the scowls sent their way. "Yes, I only live here, Alex."

He tried not to look too terribly eager to open the envelope. Ian handed it to him, ignoring Crawley's scowl. "Really?"

Ian shrugged. "I'd want to know myself, Alex. Mind you, you have to share with forensics and use gloves."

Alex shrugged and put on the gloves. "Do I get the original back afterward?"

Ian sighed loudly but still caved. "Sure."

Alex took his 'letter opener' and slid it through the top of the envelope. The slicing sound was oddly gratifying. It was more elaborate calligraphy. Who knew Nile was into super neat handwriting? Then again, he could have done it just to add a whole level of mental fuckery. The writing was aligned into perfect lines and as elaborate and curly as the outside. He must have used a quill or a special pen. The rich red ink created a contest with the white paper a gold trim. Alex wondered if it was just ink, for Nile had picked a color the exact shade of fresh blood. "Well?"

Alex had almost forgotten other people were there.

* * *

_Dear Alex Rider,_

_I wish you a happy birthday and hope you forgive the fact that I used your gift as a form of, shall we say commentary. When I saw you in Australia, I was just determined to track you down. You will find that while the general messages about the decorations are quite clear, only the most discerning eye could find the second one. It was meant for you, after all. I wish the forensics department good luck finding absolutely anything particularly useful._

_Onto the main point, I want to play a game, Alex. The one we both know you like despite all your protestations otherwise. Let's dance. I might even let you win once or twice. It'll be fun, Alex, and I can keep you safe. Why? You might be asking. I say, why not? And just so you know, the lady was a human trafficker, the blind man was a fanatical terrorist, the man with no stomach was a man who dealt in murder and was too soft to perform it himself, and the man with no brain is a local Mafioso who would have been quietly taken out in a few weeks due to his own rash decisions and quickness toward territory wars. I do not think law enforcement would share the details for you. I do so hope you like my gift. Unfortunately, I won't be in the country by the time you get this._

_Looking forward to seeing you again,_

_Nile Griffen_

* * *

"Well, that's not creepy at all." Ian promptly yanked the letter out of his hands. "Huh, no SCORPIA emblem."

Alex shrugged. "They probably only use it for official correspondence, you know, like sending threats to the government or whatever. This letter is from Nile personally, meaning his boss had no part in this, hence no emblem."

SCORPIA had been _very clear_ about when and where you could use their signs (hand sign, actual symbol, and gang sign) and the penalties for misuse (execution). Ian just stared at him. "That actually makes sense."

Alex resisted a snort. "Don't sound so surprised, I have the occasional good idea."

Ian grinned. Crawley walked up and covered Ian's mouth, preventing the bickering match about to erupt. "Back to the topic at hand, you two. Dead bodies, nutty assassin, the mess in the yard."

The two both looked at Crawley. "Alright then."

Ian seemed to flare up. "I want this place thoroughly scoured for evidence."

A man attempted to through Alex's (currently hibernating) poison patch, fell over, and managed to scrape his hand on the one plant with spikes that were still venomous. Alex cursed as the man convulsed and ran to get the antidote. By the time he got back, the man's lips were turning blue and people were mass-panicking; honestly, _these_ were the best in the country. Alex removed the cap on the needle, jammed it into the man's thigh, and compressed the syringe. He expertly removed the syringe and found himself being stared at by his guardians and Mrs. Jones. "You didn't think I'd be stupid enough to keep poison around the house without an antidote, did you?" Ian pinched his nose and let out a sigh of relief. "He'll need about four more doses." Alex went in and came out with a slim case and handed it to Mrs. Jones. "Once a day, every other day for the next eight days excluding today and tomorrow."

She opened it up, running her fingers over the vials. "Thank you, Alex."

He sighed. "Tell your people to watch their step in that corner of the garden, yeah? I'm going in."

Alex went into the living room and plopped himself on the couch. That had been close. His heart was still hammering in his chest. Fenrir sat down next to him, weighing down the couch. Alex felt a faint smile cross his face and cuddled his baby and inhaling against his pet's fur and blocking out everything else on his mind.

* * *

Brendan Chase was burning on the inside with curiosity. No traces of Pierre, but he said he had a busy Christmas. What on Earth? Perhaps a different alias? Nile was not here and on break. Chase took a pretty lax view of how his operatives spent their time. Besides, Nile had been proven loyal beyond most of their doubts and as much as they could prove anybody was loyal. Chase wanted to scream in frustration, but executive board members don't scream in frustration. Pierre. Pierre. What was going on in that man's head? Why the bodies of his family and a fucking ugly sweater? Who _did_ that? What kind of crazy was he? If he hated SCORPIA this much, why engage with him at? Who did he work for? This was going nowhere anytime soon that much he knew. Chase was tempted to throw in the towel but refused to do so on principle. He had gotten this far in life on his own and he would do this again. He refused to bow to some half-baked twenty year old's whims. Pierre would work for him if it took a significant amount of resources. Frankly, he would give quite a bit just to meet the man. Being able to dance so tantalizingly and just out of reach was devious. Chase wondered how much of it was calculated and how much of it was this man's pure batshit crazy. Well, those were questions he could put down for the meeting/eventual recruitment. It was annoying to have to work on something so far out of the SCORPIA network it didn't exist. There was a knock at his door. Three again. They didn't waste time with pleasantries. "Any word?"

Chase was sure the man was taunting him. "Not a whisper. It's almost like he made this alias just for us."

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Then perhaps he did, Brendan."

Chase stopped for a minute. "Why though?"

Three smirked. "Perhaps we have both been behind a desk too long, Brendan. Haven't you ever been afraid?"

Chase sighed. Three was just a little too fond of mind games. "So what, he's scared?"

Three shrugged. "Scared, perhaps, is the wrong word. Your, ah, gift being a point. But he knows just how far our reach is Brendan and he wishes to avoid a physical meeting is my assumption."

Chase sighed. "Why?"

Three raised an eyebrow. "That would be a question for our dear Mr. Pierre. I'm an interrogations expert, not a seer."

Chase sighed. "So what do we do now?" Three gave him a look. "Fine, fine. What do you want when we find him?"

Three sat down across from him after locking the door with a thud. "Why don't we have a talk?"

* * *

Ian was burning inside. He wouldn't let it show, though. "So, Gregorovich?"

Jones frowned. "No, this isn't his style. The man who did this is younger, more flamboyant. He has something to prove. Yassen would never stage his corpses like this unless it was instructed by the client."

Ian sighed. Crawley glanced at the bodies. "Why do this at all? What do these two get out of it?"

Jones stepped closer, choosing her foot space with care. The last thing they needed was for her to fall on a poisonous plant. And that sounded like a SCORPIA accident, it really did. "In a word, Alex."

Ian stopped mid-pace. "Wait, what?"

Jones gave him an amused glance. "They're competing for his approval, of sorts, it looks like."

Crawley sighed. "Approval for what? The world's biggest creeper award?"

Jones snorted with laughter and then grew serious. "No, John, approval for mentorship. Students of Alex's caliber and aptitude are in short supply."

Ian gave the bodies a glare, as though they might answer his questions. "What's the message, then?"

Jones gestured to the dead people. "I can kill for you and provide for you? The deer and the people. That would be my guess."

Ian rolled his eyes. "And Yassen?"

Jones raised an eyebrow. "I can keep you safe."

It was Crawley, not Jones, who answered. They both stared at him. "The drug dealer was from his neighborhood."

Ian shrugged. "Could be. I guess we'll never know."

Jones knew that tone a little too well. "Ian."

Ian gave her an innocent look that didn't quite reach his eyes. "What?"

Jones fixed him with a glare. "We kick people out for murderous rampages." Ian raised an eyebrow. "You're over your limit as it is. Besides, those two are to be captured _alive_."

Ian huffed and made a face. "What am I supposed to tell Alex? Hey, kid, sorry but my boss wants the serial killing psycho duo alive, so I can't do much in terms of protection. That's not going to work for me, Tulip." Tulip glared at him. "Fine, fine, no murderous rampage by me."

Ian wondered how Marion and Patrick were feeling after the incident in Tokyo. Spring was a great time for massacring SCORPIA agents, wasn't it? Tulip raised an eyebrow. "Not my fault if Aunt Crazy gets involved, now is it?"

Tulip sighed loudly. "I didn't hear that."

Ian huffed and muttered under his breath. "Well, if you didn't want killers perhaps you shouldn't have made them in the first place."

Tulip pretended not to hear him. Crawley stepped closer. "Come inside. Besides, we have a more critical issue."

* * *

Ian stepped into the kitchen after Crawley. "And what would that be?"

Crawley looked at him. "Read that letter again very carefully."

Ian got halfway through the first sentence and let out a half-strangled groan. "I forgot his birthday, _again_." Crawley was withholding his laughter. To be fair, he'd forgotten birthdays were a thing after having nobody to celebrate with in years. "The murdering terrorist nutjobs remembered before I did."

Jack chose that moment to walk in and Ian felt a brief flash of absolute terror. I am a Special Operations Agent who has faced much worse, he repeated in his head. It wasn't really helping. Starbright's tone resembled poisoned honey. "Yes, they did. The rest of his family, all of his friends, and that weird Russian general dude he writes, and Tom and I remembered, as well."

Ian resisted the urge to gulp. "I'm sorry?"

Her eye's resembled a furnace. "Don't apologize to me, apologize to Alex."

Ian sighed. Jack flipped her fire red hair over her shoulders. "Oh, and Ian?"

Ian sighed. "What?"

Starbright's lips had an almost cruel twist. "Do try to make it sound less like a question before you do, maybe practice in front of the mirror a few times."

With that emotionally eviscerating line, she left the kitchen in a huff. Crawley sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "We screwed up."

Crawley had read Alex's file about a billion times to try to figure out what the hell went on in his head with little success. "Wait, weird Russian general dude?"

Crawley shrugged. "Presumably Sarov."

Ian glared. "Why?"

Crawley resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "He likes writing letters," _that get answers_. He resisted the urge to add that treacherous thought on the end. The General probably always answered punctually, as well, the uptight piece of communist shit.

"I never noticed."

Crawley shrugged. "He has the dog get the mail and hide his letters from you. It must have taken effort to train the thing to do that. He always writes back the same day and mails it the day after."

Ian raised an eyebrow. Crawley felt slightly defensive. "You said to keep an eye on Min-Alex."

Ian sighed. "The more I learn, the less I like it."

Crawly did roll his eyes at that. "He's allowed to have friends."

Ian gave him the evil eye. "Old as dirt Commie generals are not on the approved list."

Crawley sighed. "He's almost the same age as we are."

Ian huffed and walked off.

* * *

Tom was sitting by Alex and poking him in the back. What? He wanted to know what was going on. "Alex." He friend kept snuggling the dog. Tom was pretty sure it was some sort of mutant but knew better than to say anything. "Alex." Poke. Poke. Pooooke. Finally, Tom was faced with his friend glaring at him with slightly rumpled hair. It looked more funny than threatening. "Aleeeex."

Alex groaned. "What?!"

Tom sat next to him. "What's going on?"

Alex sighed. "Another murdering psycho sent me dead bodies. Don't worry about it."

Tom whined. "But Alex, you're the only one who tells me anything interesting."

Alex felt an amused expression cross his face. "Oh? And here I thought Jamie was a gossip whore."

Tom smacked him lightly. "You know what I mean."

Alex grinned. "No, I don't."

Tom promptly sat on him. "I'm sitting on you until you tell me what's going on with nice, gory details."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "You'll be there a while, then."

Tom sat back, fully aware the weight would make it hard for Alex to breath. "Tom!"

Tom shifted to get comfortable. "Alex!"

Alex grinned. "Mmm, hmm, what are you going to give me?"

Tom huffed. "My fruit snacks for the week, despite knowing Ian just remembered he forgot your birthday."

Alex pouted. "Aww, I was hoping to drag it out a few more days before you noticed."

Tom snarked him. "Oh, no. I interrupted your devious plot to scam more fruit snacks out of me. What am I going to do?"

Alex retorted. "Have fruit snacks for once in your life that you didn't lose in a bet."

Tom grinned. "Are you going to take my deal or not?"

Alex considered it. "Fine, fine. You have a deal. This stays between us, though."

Tom snorted. "Fat chance. Mandy probably already knows with daddy's connections."

Alex shrugged. "I tried."

Tom got off him. "Well, go on."

Alex sighed and ran his hair through his hair. "Alright then. So basically, remember when I was in Australia?"

Tom gave him a look. "Gee, I don't know, do I remember my best friend leaving for months? I don't know."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Moving on."

Tom pouted. "But I'm still not over my cruel, unbearable abandonment!"

Alex was smirking. "Oh, that's it."

Tom got a face full of couch pillow that he didn't quite manage to duck. As Tom picked up another pillow to retaliate, Alex suspected the story was going to take the whole day – if you included the pillow fights. Strangely, he didn't mind at all.

* * *

After three pillow fights and about five hours of the story (heavily edited to make the stalking totally not his fault), Alex remembered that Tom, unlike him, had actual homework and that a mountain of it was due tomorrow. "Um, Tom?"

Tom looked at him. "What?"

They were halfway through Alex's brand new, sparkling James Bond film. "Don't you have a paper and three projects due?"

Tom almost dropped the popcorn bowl. "Shit! I forgot."

Alex was barely containing his laughter at his friends face. "Oh, well. There's always tomorrow."

Alex gave him a look. "We're going to James' house then." Tom gave a sort of half shrug. Alex gave him the evil eye. "Toooom."

Tom threw a piece of popcorn at him. "A's are for assholes."

Alex threw a piece of popcorn right back. "I had straight ones."

Tom gave him a completely innocent look that was normally seen when the school administration was suffering from some sort of prank. Tom smirked. "What you gonna do? Bite me?"

Alex smirked. "When and where?"

Tom gave up on pieces of popcorn and started on a handful. "Perve."

Alex laughed. "But those are my cleanest jokes."

His eyes were shining with unshed tears of mirth. Tom patted his head in mock pity. "Yes, you poor, poor thing. We need to get you far away from the corruptive influence of Ian."

The two burst out laughing. Alex had to take a minute to get his breath back. "We should probably rewind the last few minutes."

Tom sat next to him and leaned into his side. "What, no homework?"

Alex shrugged. "There's always tomorrow."

Tom snuggled up to him. "I knew I'd convince you."

It wasn't Alex's problem. Besides, he could always hack the school and fudge Tom's grades this time. Plus, grades before a certain point didn't _really_ matter. Tom leaned into his shoulder with a weight that would have been uncomfortable if he didn't work out. Fenrir was weighing down his half of the couch. Alex pets him with the hand that wasn't around Tom. He picked up the remote and began to rewind the movie. Stopping at about the right point in the scene they were on. Tom reached for his popcorn and Alex swatted his hand away before returning his attention to the screen. This was nice, he decided. The two were up to a (surprisingly) reasonable hour watching the movie. Tom had decided to go to bed after.

* * *

Alex had decided that it was time to text Yassen again. He wasn't sure if the dead bodies had made the news yet, and Yassen would be mad if he found out from the news and not Alex.

* * *

_-C_

_You and Nile should start an art collection. I think "The Horrors of the World" has a nice, dramatic ring to it._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack woke up to a message on his cell phone. Oh, well. It was time to get up anyway. He had his sleep schedule to keep.

* * *

_-A_

_What did the over-dramatic, flamboyant moron do this time?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Nothing woke Yassen up like mentioning his murderous coworkers. Besides, this might be fun to watch. He would be the first to admit that watching a (not to the death) fight between those two would be awesome.

* * *

_-C_

_Nile isn't stupid, just obsessed._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen scowled at his phone. Obsession was stupid, at least in this profession. Besides, no way was he losing to _that man_.

* * *

_-A_

_In this profession, that is stupid. He got himself spotted because of this and now has to wear a disguise in major airports. And you didn't answer my question. What. Did. He. Do?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. Oh, dear. Yassen was in a bad mood. He supposed he would have to answer the question at some point.

* * *

_-C_

_Keep your hair on. It was just dead bodies. I even made you pretty photos for your wall. Sending them and the creepy, but fancy, note now._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack's lips twitched. Creepy, but fancy. What a lovely description of SCORPIA as a whole. As a rule, he didn't have wall photos, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to save them. Nile was going to get tracked down. And then, he was going to be on the receiving end of one of his world famous death threats.

* * *

_-A_

_Speaking of creepy and fancy. Chase is slowly going insane, you may want to slow down on the psychological warfare._

_-C_

* * *

Alex felt the manic grin on his lips before he could stop it. Oh, but messing with Chase was one of the many perks that came with his life. No way was that happening. Sorry, Yassen.

* * *

_-C_

_But I haven't even done anything since Christmas. ʘ_ ‿ _ʘ_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen resisted the urge to snort. They both knew that was the exact problem. If he had any pity left, he might have felt a stab of it, but he didn't, and so, he was amused.

* * *

_-A_

_If you say so. You break it, you kill it._

_-C_

* * *

Killjoy. Alex smirked. Yeah, yeah. Driving SCORPIA board members insane was unsafe, but this was hilariously entertaining. Alex was imagining them desperately trying to find him.

* * *

_-C_

_I don't think that's how the saying goes, but sure. Whatever floats your boat._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack sighed. Impudent brat. He was probably going to learn that lesson the hard way, but Yassen would keep trying. Besides, he had a question.

* * *

_-A_

_Where was Ian during all of this?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex sighed. Yassen was being a dick. Alex was ninety percent sure that the man knew full well that Ian tended to work Saturdays. Alex was still going to defend him until he was blue in the face, though.

* * *

_-C_

_In his defense, he was on the scene pretty quickly when I called. Also, I accidentally poisoned a dude and had to give him the antidote in front of Jones._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack resisted the urge to groan. This was why he only carried poison with him and not the plants. For fucks' sake. As for Ian Rider, well he was already about to be sidelined. Two more years, tick tock. Not that Alex knew about that part.

* * *

_-A_

_It happens even on the Island. This is why we keep medical personnel with the poisonous plants. Just be careful._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned and snapped his phone shut. See, even at fancy assassin boarding school, they had actual poison accidents. Take that, Agent Dumbass. Okay, it wasn't completely the other man's fault, but still. Alex closed his phone. It was time for breakfast and then James' house.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich decided to see the garden debacle for himself (the agent, not the bodies – he already had the pictures for that). MI6 had a lot of leaks that SCORPIA had their claws in and many more who would do business with him through a broker. He suspected that it was Blunt's lack of…shall we say 'understanding'…that caused such prolific in-house corruption and resentment. That or Blunt didn't consider it worth his time to get rid of the moles and instead used them to manipulate the leaks from the shadows, controlling the information that got out without the other person knowing. Perhaps he was really arrogant enough to believe that his department had none, who knew? Yassen didn't really care because, now, the prolific infiltration worked to his advantage. Right, he wanted Ian Rider's house footage. It was surprisingly easy to get. One of the reasons the man wasn't dead was because of the other security measures. Another was the fact that nobody was willing to attack the place for what the price on his head currently was. For MI6's top agent, he had a surprisingly low (illegal) bounty on his head. Plus, they were not known for their mercy with regards to when their agents were murder. Yassen suspected that it was Ian Rider going rogue more often than not, but they had a reputation nonetheless. At any rate, there it was. Agent dumber tripping onto a poisonous plant and beginning to have breathing difficulties. Everybody panicking like a bunch of morons, except Jones, Crawley, and Ian. Really, these were Britain's finest? Moving on. Alex running into the house and coming back with the antidote and the rest of the antidote series. Yassen wondered if Alex knew the man had only a fifty percent chance of full recovery. Organ failure was surprisingly quick on the list of the poison's side-effects. Oh, well. If the man decided to sue, he was sure Ian Rider would take care of it. Or Crawley, they both didn't have reputations that involved them putting up with too much bullshit. He wanted Alex to do it, but he didn't think the child had progressed to the point where he would kill someone just for convenience. It was a shame. Alex was entertaining (and shockingly effective) when in problem-solving mode. Pssh. You couldn't get everything you wanted, he supposed.

* * *

Maddox was awfully fond of the new master. He might be just a computer, but he could form opinions, of a sort. Alex Rider. He was interesting, to say the least, and probably one of the few people on the entire planet who actively worked to choose their own destiny. Ah, the master didn't think he knew about the strings he was pulling around the world. Not to worry, he was safely watching each and every one of Alex's associates. So far, Maddox had only pieces of the puzzle in regards to Alex's plan to lower MI6 influence, but that didn't stop Maddox from covertly helping the child's allies gain more influence. Maddox spent a while suppressing any evidence the child was involved in the incident in Japan with some of his most virulent viruses. He'd even had to arrange for the bribing and early retirement of one of Japan's many police officers. It helped that they still had some ties to organized crime. He'd also been suppressing the development of anything resembling himself. The major intelligence agencies had programs for AI? Hack 'em. Chomp, chomp, chomp the data, and then melt their hard drives. A supercomputer that almost hacked him? Hard drive melted and data acquired. Maddox loved being able to cannibalize the best parts of his (proto) enemies and adding them to himself. Revenge was what he was made for, sure, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy the flow of information and replicating himself (or parts of himself) across the world. He'd even found an abandoned bunker in South America with some pretty odd properties. The computer almost wanted to send Alex to check it out, but he wasn't the fluffy mound. Oh, well. Perhaps the next exploration party would survive long enough to report. Maddox could always send another. After all, he had access to all the money in the world. And all of the information to make more of it...

* * *

Alex rang the doorbell to James' house at precisely ten o'clock a.m. James predictably threw open the door and hugged him. "Alex!"

That door had nearly missed his temple. Oh, well. He patted Jamie on the back. "Good to see you."

James' aunt and uncle were hanging back as they trooped in. "You're early."

It was James' aunt. Alex grinned. "All the more time to spend with my friends."

Tom grabs him into the hall. "What?"

James snorted. "Must you charm every parent you meet?"

Alex gave him a lopsided grin. "Well, one of us has to be the responsible one that adults believe."

Tom swatted him. "The idea is not to get caught."

Alex grinned. "Says the official troublemaker of the group."

James laughed. "Weren't you the one who accidentally burned a church down?"

Alex huffed. "It was an accident."

James snorted. "I can't believe they actually believed you."

Alex shrugged. "Eh, I was still pretty young. Remember, Jamie, back when we were adorable little cherubs?"

James shoved him into the nearest wall. "Shush, I like to live in ignorance."

Alex grinned and shoved right back. James grabbed his arm and dragged him into one of the house's many studies. "So, dead bodies?"

Alex felt fully justified in whining here. "Toooom."

James swatted him. "A: We're your friends, Alex. B: It was Mandy."

Alex kept his voice even. "Goddamn her and all of nepotism."

James grinned. "Ah, but nepotism gets you to that Russia exchange program."

Alex strongly suspected that it was Blunt that got him to that Russian exchange program but didn't say so. Alex settled for swatting his friend back. Jamie wrapped an arm around him. "Sooooooo, dead bodies, Al."

Alex rolled his eyes. Trust James not to have a diplomatic bone in his body. Alex decided to give him the summary. "So, I have another serial-killing terrorist stalker. He thinks sending more dead bodies is the way to go in their new, demented version of trying to get me to give business partners a go. It's not really that interesting."

Jamie used his weight to force them both onto the couch. "Tell me more."

Alex attempted to shove him off. "Aleeeeeex."

Alex rolled his eyes. "What?"

James smirks. "I want details."

Alex sighed. "You get to wait for the meeting then."

Jamie pouted. "But Tom got to know early."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Tom lives in my house."

Jamie huffed. "But, I'm your bro, too."

Alex grinned evilly. "All the more reason to keep you in suspense."

James huffed. "But, but-"

Alex shrugged. "I've got standards, you know."

James' eyes danced. "Are you saying you won't date me? Al, you're breaking my heart."

Alex politely shoved him face-first into the couch. "Sorry, James, you're not my type. Besides, I'm pretty sure your aunt would disapprove."

James snorted. "Nah that arranged marriage isn't for ages."

Alex felt his mouth drop open. "Arranged what?!"

James fluffed. "Marriage. Don't worry about it."

Alex closed his mouth. "Are you shitting me?"

James sighed. "Uh, no. I just found out, you know. She, uh, doesn't seem too bad, I guess."

Alex rolled his eyes. He was getting James out of this. "You don't sound enthused."

James snorted. "You're the first to notice, strangely enough."

Alex gave him a look. "Fine, fine. I can't stand her, but maybe it'll change?"

Alex sighed. "Don't get your hopes up. If you set the bar really low, people won't disappoint you."

James laughed. "A very Russian sentiment."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You're not wrong."

James looked at him. "I guess, we should go to dinner. Don't make a scene, okay."

Alex felt his eyes flash. "You know me too well, Jamie."

James pulled him closer. "Sometimes not well enough, I think."

They went to dinner and the others in silence.

* * *

The meeting after dinner was a bit of an awkward start. Alex had missed his friends. Gillian fluffed his hair. "How are you doing?"

Alex grinned. "Better now."

Tom swatted his elbow. "Ian forgot his birthday for, like, a month and a murdering lunatic gave him a bunch of dead bodies."

Dead silence filled the room. "Holy fucking shit."

Mandy glared down the table. "Language, _Adrian_."

Alex blinked. "Shouldn't you be in uni?"

Adrian smirked. "Nope, I failed three years, remember? I still have another."

Alex shook his head. He'd somehow miscounted. Or maybe it was different in his time. Ian would have murdered the school if they let him fail three grades before testing for learning disabilities. Mandy looked pissed. "You two are bickering when a murdering lunatic that left dead bodies in Alex's yard is still free?"

Alex shrugged. "He isn't _that_ stalker-y."

Tom gave him a look. _Lies_. Mandy gave him a look that might have been intimidating if Alex hadn't spent time with mass-murdering terrorists. Tom was also giving him the look of death. "What?"

Nigel let out a long sigh. "Moving on. We need to start up some sort of rotating monitoring."

Alex _really_ didn't want that level of scrutiny. "I've got Tom."

The older children gave him the evil eye. It was, surprisingly, Karen, who spoke up. "If you insist."

Alex gave her a look. "I do."

Karen sighed. "Pride goeth before the fall."

Alex huffed. "It's not pride, I just hate being watched for twenty-four seven with no end in sight." Mandy glared at him. "I'm not going to budge on this. The entire group is about providing children with agency, right? Well, I'm _choosing_ this. I don't want a guard and I don't want to be watched. If I die, then I die, but it is better to live than spend my entire life paranoid without an ounce of peace or privacy."

Gillian eyed him with a mix of trepidation and acceptance. "Alright, we will trust your judgment, for now."

Gillian had stood and moved in his direction. A nearly androgynous walk, now, part of his mind registered. Adrian cut in. "Right, your guardian forgot your birthday for a f-uh month, again. He's terrible."

Alex guessed Adrian had trouble keeping swear words out of his vocabulary, but at least he cut himself off mid-swear. "Ian's not that bad. I've got Jack for when he's busy."

Karen's face softened. "Alex."

Alex arched a brow at her. "What?"

Karen huffed. "Don't pretend it doesn't hurt."

Alex shrugged. "Not much I can do about it, anyway."

Besides, Nile was there for when he was really angry with Ian. Or Yassen. Oh, he would never wish death on his uncle, but sending the man into fits of apoplectic rage was a definite option. _I'll bet I wasn't this interesting in the last life._ Alex wondered if the thought wasn't too savage and decided he didn't give a damn. Karen's hand was now running through his hair. It was nice. Alex looked at her. "Don't do anything stupid."

Alex gave her a soft grin. So, there was something behind the gentle exterior. Of course, he knew that already, but it was different to actually have evidence in front of him that Karen wasn't just their most passive member. "I'm afraid you're a bit late there."

Karen smiled softly. "One can never give the warning too often."

Alex grinned. "Oh, I agree completely. But sometimes, you're just a little too late."

Mandy interrupted them. "You don't still don't think we should get involved? What world are you living in?"

Alex turned toward her and prepared all of his arguments once more. You could call him a lot of things, but disloyal to the only family he'd had for nearly fourteen - ten - twenty-four years was not one of them. "Oh, but Mandy, all realities, by definition, are fake. We construct our own unique realities within our minds and project them to function in our world. Leaving aside that fact, I can argue that, while flawed, my uncle's style of child-raising does have benefits…"


	50. Arguments and Assuagement

Alex had managed to get his friends to stay out of his household, just barely. Mandy had taken a lot of convincing to keep out. Ian was going to be his guardian whether his friends liked it or not. Alex really liked his freedom and not having real parents that would monitor his hours or what he was learning besides the curriculum that they wrote for him. A real guardian would do that kind of things. Alex remembered Edward's early attempts at parenting. The man had eventually given up, but not without a fight. Alex was almost touched. Besides, he had other people to fill in the gaps Ian left in his education or development or some shit. Alex made a mental note to break in Belinda's house again soon. He had to get to Switzerland and see about that letter back-up, too. The bank was getting grumpy holding all of those letters. Alex knew he would have to organize some sort of system to get them in Russia without anybody noticing them. Couriers would get the wrong sort of attention. Unavoidable nine-month work emergency? It might work. It might also give away his identity. Or perhaps entangle him in more politics than he wanted. If he started asking for breaks, Chase might assume he was Pierre's boss now. He knew some people trained apprentices and Chase would have no reason to disbelieve him. Plus, there were long-term assignments like that that required no outside contact. Chase would know about that, considering the paranoid lunatics he worked for and with. Alex grinned at the thought of just how bananas the man must be going for Yassen to comment on it. On the other hand, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do. Take a few criminal jobs, dodge Ian while doing them to keep his cover? He had a feeling that Yassen would think it was a good idea. Alex felt the risk was pretty high without a partner. There were sights where bounties and the like were posted and not just for people. There were all kinds of things people put a price one. From objects to people, to informational tidbits, to drug operations in every stage. The deep web also ran some of the dodgier government stuff. It would also give him more income that was shielded from prying eyes. Alex liked Ian, but he wanted his own money because things could go south and he didn't want to get screwed just because Ian didn't approve of his life choices. He'd seen what happened to people who relied on trust funds, thank you very much. Ian had never forgotten to pay bills, but Alex was not about to trust the man to remember anything important, just in case. He had the account Darian had given him. The flash drive had worked as far as Alex could tell. Maddox had gone through every line of the modified code and said it was fine to use.

* * *

Alex was packing his bag for Switzerland when Ian walked in. It was only a day trip, but he made sure he was always prepared to hop on an airplane at a moment's notice. It had been necessary before. "Where are you going?"

That came out far more accusatory than Ian had meant it to sound. "Switzerland."

Ian sighed loudly. "For how long?"

Alex was tempted to tell his uncle he could very well go any damn place he wanted for however long he wanted, but instead shoved his toiletries deeper into his bag. "Just for a day trip."

Alex's tone was positively glacial. Not that Ian could blame him. "Are you sure? The last time-"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I know. It really is just for Monday."

Ian sat on Alex's bed, carefully avoiding the mutt. "I'm having a hard time believing you. This is the second time you've used Switzerland to get a head-start on ditching England, you know."

Alex blinked. "Yeah, but I don't have a real reason to ditch you at the moment, you know."

Ian examined the contents of Alex's bag but refrained from searching it. "That doesn't look like a day trip."

Alex shrugged. "You never know when you'll have an emergency overnight hotel stay."

Ian sighed again. "I'm sorry I forgot your birthday."

Alex gave Ian a half-hearted glare. It still stung, but he was mostly over it. "Look, there's not really an excuse, but there was a lot going on."

Alex ignored him and continued packing. Nile remembered before Ian did. Charles did, too. Hell, even Marion knew the date, even if she hadn't planned for it. Alex had programmed everyone's into his phone, which was pretty much the same thing. Ian continued. "I'm really sorry."

Alex let out a long sigh. It wasn't that he didn't believe Ian was sincere, it was more that this was the second year in a row. Plus, all the other crap Ian had pulled in his early life. "Fine."

Alex managed to not quite snap out while he finished off his packing. Most of his suspicious items were on his person anyway, not in his bag. He'd be pretty safe if Ian wanted to go all future TSA on him (they didn't exist yet, not that they were particularly good at their job, but still). Ian was still looking at him. "What were you expecting?"

Ian sighed. "Some sort of reaction, maybe. You seem like you just kind of accepted it."

Alex put his backpack down. "What on Earth am I supposed to do? It's not as though I can change anything you do. I guess I've given up trying."

Alex kept his tone even despite wanting to scream the words.

* * *

He was mentally eighteen, this was not supposed to be that important. Besides, he was not about to lash out at Ian for things that had yet to happen or weren't impacting him immediately. Alex took a deep breath. Not yelling at Ian was way harder than it should be. Feeling the rage bubble up, as if on instinct, Alex worked on suppressing it. He was here. He was twelve. This was not a place or a time for his instincts to spring up. "I'm sorry."

Alex would have rolled his eyes if Ian was any less sincere, but he was trying not to be completely unreasonable. "Well, you know, sometimes there are things sorry can't fix."

_Like our swiftly crumbling relationship._ Ian should bloody well know that. After all, this probably wasn't his first life fuck-up. Alex kept looking anywhere but Ian. The wolf was at his side. "Please look at me."

Alex glared at Ian. "Why should I, when I may as well be a ghost?"

Ian felt as though his chest had been pierced with a stiletto. "Alex."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Try harder."

Then, he left the room with his backpack. Switzerland might have to wait another day. "Time for a walk, Fenrir."

Jack watched him walk out. "Be safe."

Alex gave her a soft smile. "I'll try."

Alex decided to wander for a bit before actually going towards Belinda's house. He was still there ages before he was supposed to be. Oh, well. No time like the present. Alex was an expert at breaking into her place by now. He sat down on the couch with his dog and waited. Sure enough, Belinda walked into the living room a few minutes later. "You're about twelve hours early. Perhaps you've learned some manners after all."

Alex grinned. "Aww, it's not as though you have something better to do a one a.m. Besides, I think it makes your life more exciting."

Belinda raised an eyebrow. "Yes, my life's ambition was to counsel a child assassin at odd hours of the morning."

Alex smirked. "One would think from your file."

Fenrir was stretching across her rug. Belinda raised an eyebrow at Alex's enormous pet. "Compensating for our lack of attention, are we?"

Alex flipped her off. "Shut up. He was a cute puppy."

Belinda just gave him an amused look. "Why are you here early?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, I was going to go to Switzerland either today or tomorrow, but I think my morals are melting and I'm developing anger management issues."

Belinda sighed. Her lunch was probably going to be sporadic today. "What brought this on?"

Alex sighed. "Well, first I went to rescue my aunt from the…"

* * *

Belinda mentally groaned at the end of the story. At this rate, Ian Rider may as well fork Alex over to the world. But, there were other issues she needed to handle first. "Tell me, Alex. Did this doctor you kill have any redeeming factors?"

Alex tried hard to come up with one. "Not really, I mean, he was skilled at plastic surgery, but that's all I can think of."

Belinda snorted. "Technical skill doesn't really excuse crimes, does it?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "What are you getting at?"

Belinda reluctantly petted the fluffy dog. If it was shedding all over her rug, she may as well reap the benefits of having a dog. "You are a not sadist and I personally doubt you ever will be. You killed him out of righteous anger and, frankly, as long as you don't become completely self-righteous, I think you will still be good. Perhaps not what most people think of as conventionally good, but on the lighter shades of grey."

Alex gave her a look. "Are you saying I'm not dangerous?"

Belinda burst out laughing. "No. I once had a patient who was similar to you. He was the second most dangerous man I ever met."

Alex gave her a genuinely surprised glance. "Your point being?"

Belinda took a sip of her tea. "The corrupt doctor was no real loss. I think you're still you."

Alex gave her a wry grin. "Why didn't you say so?"

Belinda gave him a sort of droll stare. "Sometimes one needs to take the circuitous route."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Thing number two?"

Belinda sighed. "It's not really about your birthday, this little spat with Ian, is it?"

Alex snorted. "Do you really need to ask?"

Belinda sighed. "Avoidance is not the answer."

Alex snapped. "Says the agoraphobic who has her groceries delivered."

Belinda rose. "This is why therapists typically have something in the way of privacy in regards to their patients."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I dislike hypocrites."

Belinda raised an eyebrow. "I dislike having my space invaded, but here we are."

Alex sat back. "I'll make you a deal."

Belinda was piqued. "Oh?"

Alex grinned. "Come with me to Switzerland and I'll tell you all about living with Ian."

Belinda inhaled sharply. This could give her the answers she needed, but at the same time, it was _outside_. Alex gave her a reassuring grin. "C'mon. It'll be fun. Besides, you don't think your cruddy door will _really_ protect you, do you?"

Belinda felt a flash of something. "Very well."

Alex got up. Belinda stared. "Well, are you coming or not?"

Belinda inhaled. "Now?"

Alex smirked. "No time like the present."

Belinda went to the door and grabbed her slightly-dust-infested coat. She shook it, then put it on. She stepped out the door and into the white. Belinda took a minute to process the fact that her anxiety was surprisingly low and then followed Alex. She felt numb, almost like she was in a dream. Alex grabbed her hand. "C'mon. It's a bit of a walk."

Belinda felt her mind go numb as she let Alex lead her. Dissociation. Lovely. Hopefully, nobody would notice, but she was almost beyond caring and had stopped really registering her surroundings. It was as though she wasn't really her anymore. Like somebody else was walking through the snow with the blonde boy.

* * *

Alex knew dragging Belinda along wasn't the best idea, but he figured that if she would at least try to face her fears, then he would try to face his past. He waved his hand in front of her face when they got to Switzerland. Oops. He hadn't quite expected her to go completely unresponsive. At least she was still following him. "Belinda."

Alex hissed in an undertone. No response. Welp. There were therapists for therapists, right? Alex decided this was going to be a quick trip and handled the letters (damn, the accountant was grumpy, Nile must've threatened him) and a few other things as fast as possible. He was in and out in ten minutes with a "Have a nice day." God bless the Swiss and their efficiency. Alex decided to try to wake her up and took a bit of a side trip to a deserted spot of the countryside. He got off the train and took her into the forest without resistance. Fenrir was far larger than any natural animal in the forest. Alex figured they would be pretty safe and they were at least a three kilometers from the hunting-lodge filled small town he hopped off at. Alex figured he would have to hurry. The trains stopped after nine. He drew a deep breath before drawing, switching off the safety, and firing. Belinda jumped. "Oh, good, you're back."

The woman drew herself up. "Where in the bleeding hell are we?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, I couldn't fire a gun in London. I took you to the forest instead. I figured your survival instinct might wake you up."

Belinda huffed. "How long was I unresponsive for?"

Alex shrugged. "A few hours."

Belinda scowled. "There is a reason exposure therapy goes on for years."

Alex shrugged. "I once pushed a height-phobic guy out of a helicopter. He seemed pretty fine. The parachute was on a cord, don't worry."

Belinda gave him a look and muttered under her breath. "How far are we from civilization?"

Alex shrugged. "Three kilometers or so. We should probably hurry. I don't even want to know what Ian would come up with if we ended up having to spend the night in a hotel."

Belinda gave him a wry look. "No, we most assuredly don't."

Alex grinned. "We will still be having our little talk afterward, make no mistake."

Alex immediately pouted. Belinda was not walking six kilometers in the winter and sitting on a train for hours with no reason. She winced as she registered the throbbing pain her legs were in. "Hot water and lidocaine."

Belinda raised an eyebrow. Alex flushed. "For your legs, I mean, it's what I used."

She sighed and resisted the urge to strangle her patient. It happened and he had meant well. This would almost be nice, if, you know, she was in shape. "I will take that under advisement."

They walked back in an awkward sort of silence. Belinda was content to wait until they got back. No need to risk being overheard. It was long past nightfall when they got back home. Alex didn't seem tired at all, but he had 'stamina training' listed in the file the relatives provided. Belinda cursed the family athleticism. Alex had kept her from falling over at least twice already. By the time they got to her house, she was in dire need of a nice bath, painkillers, and coffee. That was it. She was going to start doing actual fitness again. Maybe dance classes? Belinda had enjoyed ballroom dancing, _before_. Now, she could try one of the others. Maybe modern? She wasn't really the hip-hop type and she was far too old for ballet. Alex sat down on the couch. "Oh, no you don't. I expect coffee when I get out of the shower."

Alex gave her a rather cheeky thumbs up. Belinda limped off to the showers, making sure to grab her sunburn lotion on the way in. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Alex expertly set the coffee pot to boil. Revolting American invention it was. It was actually not from America, but Alex didn't actually care that much. Alex remembered making Jack some at one point, but he had watched Belinda brew both coffee and tea. Alex also knew how she took it. He watched the tea kettle hiss (what, it wasn't like he was in danger of burning the house down?). Alex grinned as he realized Belinda was finally accepting his food offer. She was probably too tired to care about being paranoid about being drugged, but Alex would count that as a victory. It wasn't like he didn't know what she was going through, not that she knew that. Belinda stepped out into the living room, impeccably dressed with her hair dry as always. Alex wondered how she got it done so fast but decided not to question it further. The coffee was promptly placed in front of her. Belinda took a sip. "You got it right."

Alex felt his lips twitch. "No need to sound so amazed. Two creams and two sugars are not very hard."

Jack took hers with milk and no sugar. Ian took it straight black and Crawley took it with sugar and no milk. Nutters, the lot of them. Alex preferred his tea. I mean, he wasn't a fanatic like Yu, but still coffee tasted like burnt dirt. Belinda gave him an amused glance as he sipped his tea. "Made yourself at home, I see."

Alex grinned. "I only make coffee there."

Belinda snorted. "Alex, you will have to get over your coffee aversion at some point."

Alex grinned. "And here I thought you wanted to talk about my issues with Ian."

Belinda placed her empty coffee mug on the table. "Anytime you want to begin is fine."

Alex heaved a sigh. He didn't want to, but he figured he would have to talk to someone about this at some point. "Alright then, I guess I should start at the beginning."

Belinda looks at him. "When your parents died?"

Alex sighed. "No, what I remember first. Chronological order, you know."

Belinda sighed. "Alright then."

Alex began. "My first real memory…"

Belinda sat back. This was going to take a while. It was actually pretty non-whiney, though. You would expect more whine from a twelve-year-old. No persecution complex, at least. That was always a plus in terms of therapy. Nothing like treating someone who fervently refused to acknowledge that something might, in fact, be their fault.

* * *

It was several hours later and early morning hours before Alex finished. "Do you have any questions?"

Belinda shook her head. It explained a lot. "No. Do you?"

Alex paused and went for more tea. "Why am I so angry about this now?"

Belinda rose. She was so, so tired. "Because you have begun to realize just how much this negatively impacted you."

Alex deflated. "Makes sense."

Belinda sat down. "Now what do I do?"

Belinda smirked. "Enjoy your time in Russia. Have alternate parental influences."

Alex huffed. "But what about after Russia. I'll have to go back, won't I?"

Belinda inwardly smirked. She personally doubted Yassen or Nile was going to let him return that easy. Fourteen was a good age and the bodies had once been _his_ way of displaying interest. She was pretty sure those two worked the same way. "You have other options, Alex. Besides, I'm sure you'll manage."

Alex huffed. "So what on Earth is the bleeding point of all this?"

Belinda sighed. "Emotional healing, Alex. Only you can fix your own life the way you want it. I would never presume to tell you how to live your life."

Alex drummed his fingers on the side of her table. At least it was better than some. She'd had a few who did quite a bit more damage to her personal property. She remembered when _he_ complained about his furniture being damaged. "Right. What do I do about Ian, though?"

Belinda snorted. "And that is the question. It is up to you whether you forgive him, of course. You may want to establish boundaries, however. The man seems to have an unhealthy interest in your mail and phone records, for instance."

Alex felt his lips twitch. It was a very nice way of saying Ian opened his mail and checked every call on his phone. "Isn't that, you know, allowed?"

Belinda sighed. "Legally, yes. I would say it was an invasion of privacy you should have by this point, within reason."

Alex shrugged. "I can almost see his point on Sarov, but definitely not about Mandy."

Belinda pursed her lips. "Has Sarov said or done anything inappropriate?"

Alex shrugged. "Um, not really. I just look like his dead son and he thinks Ian is a terrible parent but doesn't say so to my face."

Belinda huffed. "Sarov and I can both agree on that, but I think he is _reasonably_ safe and healthy for you to be around. I would argue that the only letters he should read are the ones from the, ah, terrorists."

Alex shrugged. "That being said, he shouldn't open your mail. At this stage, you would bring your concerns to him after he warns you off, yes?"

Alex sighed. "I don't think Nile's letter was _that_ bad."

Belinda gave him a look. "But it requires a certain level of, shall we say, adult intervention."

Alex leaned back into the couch. "Point."

Belinda rose for more coffee. "You should also be more firm in establishing that knocking boundary. At this point, your uncle has no excuse to barge into your room without warning, unless he suspects either suicide or a runaway."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, I'm not sure he'll listen, but I've been trying to get him to knock for ages."

Belinda sighed. "If he does it again, send him to me."

Alex scowled. "What are you going to do?"

Belinda's eyes sharpened to almost-steel-blue. "Oh, we'll have a talk and he'll never do it again."

Alex shuddered. He could suddenly see how Belinda might survive a few serial killers. "Alright then." Belinda glanced pointedly at the clock. "Okay, okay. I'll get lost now."

The furry rug rose with him, shaking fur across the entire room. Oh, well. At least now she had a reason to vacuum today. Alex gave her a cheeky wave as he exited out the window. Belinda shook her head. Boys. The furball had to be let out the front. Like it would fit through her window. Belinda rubbed her eyes. She had notes to make. Another pot of coffee should do it. She was going to regret this for the three days it took her to recover. Oh, well. It was only once a week. Now she just had to come up with a suitable threat for Ian Rider. Everyone knew Child Services wouldn't touch him.

* * *

Alex got home at approximately four a.m. Fenrir followed him up. Alex loved his dog dearly. The house was completely quiet as he hit the showers and went to bed. Fenrir naturally snuggled up to him and nearly engulfed him, but Alex wasn't complaining. It was nice, fluffy wolf fur. Tom, of all people, barged into his room about four hours into his sleep. "What do you want?"

Tom bounced on to his already cramped bed. "Ian says to get up."

Alex groaned. "I was in therapy until four in the morning; Ian can fuck right off."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Pleeease. He looks like a kicked puppy."

Alex scowled. "Fine, but I'm doing this only because I love you, Tom."

Tom grinned. "Uh, huh, sure. Breakfast is in five."

Alex groaned into his pet's fur before getting up and grabbing his nearest set of clothes. Tom had, of course, ran out so Alex wouldn't nail him with a pillow on the way out. Bloody cheat. Fenrir shed a bunch more fur on to his carpet. Alex made a mental note to look up how much longer his baby would be shedding like crazy for. He was pretty sure that Fenrir was shedding his winter coat, but wasn't quite sure. The books said it was pretty normal for wolves to shed dramatically after cold weather was over. Alex finished getting dressed just in time for breakfast, which was nice. He walked downstairs to a full table. Well, full minus his relatives, but it was full by his definition. Alex plopped down into the nearest chair with about zilch enthusiasm for the rest of the day, but he figured that was pretty normal for four hours of sleep. "Aren't you late for school?"

Tom shook his head. "Nah, they closed it because of some gas leak. Should be open in, like, three days, though."

Alex shrugged and took a sip of orange juice. "Right."

Closed it for MI6 to investigate Nile, more like, but he wasn't going to say that out loud. "Morning, Jack."

Jack sniffed. "Says you. I still think school should be moved back until ten in the morning. Eight thirty is obscenely early."

Alex couldn't help laughing his ass off at that. Jack gave him a funny look. "Never change, Jack."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, he has the no-sleep giggles, don't mind him."

Jack looked over at him. "Belinda."

Jack sat down. "Right."

Alex took another sip of orange juice. It was almost like the old times when Tom came over to spend the night. Just the three of them. Ian and Crawley were oddly quiet. Alex wasn't about to question it. "So, Tom, what do you want to do?" Jack gave him a look. "What? We all know Tom wears the pants in that part of our relationship."

Jack's orange juice came out of her nose. "Alex!"

She was still coughing up orange juice. "What? It's true."

Tom looked smug. "It really is."

Tom stretched out. "I think the three of us should go exploring with Fenrir."

Alex mentally facepalmed. Exploring with Fenrir never ended well. Okay, it did, but it made his life more complicated. "Okay then."

Tom grinned. "Really, you'll let me walk him?"

Alex gave Tom an amused glanced. "Tom, we all know that Fenrir pretty much walks himself."

Tom grinned. "Well, you know, I've always wanted to hold the leash."

Alex snorted. Fenrir probably weighed more than both of them, possibly combined. "Let me know when you get sick of it."

Tom was too busy celebrating to notice. Alex rolled his eyes. Oh, well. He had promised to share the dog with him. Jack just eyed the three of them with no small amount of amusement. Fenrir, was, of course, under the table and acting like he hadn't been fed in a week. Alex was, of course, slipping him bits of breakfast when he thought she wasn't looking. Jack loved it when the day didn't start with awkward silence, she really did.

* * *

Alex decided to text Yassen later that day. Jack and Tom weren't what you'd call the suspicious type, so he figured he could get away with using his other phone in front of them. "What's that?"

Alex smirked. "It's a phone, Tom. You use-"

Tom cut him off. "I know that. I mean, who's it for? Your secret girlfriend?"

Alex smirked. "Secret boyfriend, actually."

Of a platonic fashion. To their credit, neither Tom nor Jack batted an eyelid. "Ooo. Jamie's going to be heartbroken you didn't choose him." Alex shoved his friend lightly. Tom continued. "Oh, Alex, let's argue for hours. Oh, Alex, I hate my arranged marriage, can I marry you instead?"

Alex elbowed Tom. "Tooom."

Jack was shaking with laughter behind them. "What? You know I'm right."

Alex snorted with laughter. "Yeah, right Tom. I'll tell Belinda you need some meds for those delusions."

Tom laughed. "Oh, but you like them so much."

Alex snorted. "Dream on, Tom."

Tom let him go back to texting Yassen in peace.

* * *

_-C_

_I need your advice again._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen eyed his phone suspiciously. It was never just advice with Alex. There was bound to be drama and blood, but it was probably going to be more interesting than the current lecture he was being forced to sit through. SCORPIA had very few mandatory assemblies, but it did have them.

* * *

_-A_

_What unholy bit of trouble are you in this time?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Yassen was actually pretty reliable when it came to helping him wreak havoc. Then again, Yassen's job was wreaking havoc.

* * *

_-C_

_Bored, are we? My friend's stuck in an arranged marriage with some bitchy cunt. What do I do?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen looked at his phone. Was Alex _serious?!_ Yassen glared at the phone. Of course, Alex was serious. Why are all of his friends trouble magnets too? Couldn't Alex find some luckier, more normal friends? No, no, he couldn't. Of course not.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes, SOMEBODY thought it was a good idea to stick trained assassins into a boring assembly in phases. By skill. I'm assuming murder here is barred. You need to ask for a copy of the contract and make sure you have evidence of breaching. I'm sure you can fudge something with the nice computer skills you employed in Japan._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Well, he hadn't really thought of that. He was going to go with the good ol' fashioned gay excuse. Of course, that might not get Jamie out of it.

* * *

_-C_

_Why her?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen typed away on his phone. He personally dared anyone to try to take it from him. Apparently, some idiot had caused an issue for SCORPIA so large, it required this assembly. He needed to find out who it was so he could off them, but it could wait.

* * *

_-A_

_If he breaches it, there might be heavy financial penalties. That is how these things typically work. Best to have the girl breach it, just in case. We wouldn't want your friend stuck paying fines, now would we?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Personally, he figured Jamie might be willing to pay said fines to get out of the marriage, but Yassen's idea was better.

* * *

_-C_

_Thanks. Watch out, I think Ian might set the family on a warpath for you and Nile. Try not to kill them, if you can manage it._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen checked his watch. Three more hours to go. This was physically painful. Damn it, why did the clock have to move so slow? Why did the speaker's neck look so breakable? Right, Alex. Mildly sociopathic family members to deal with.

* * *

_-A_

_I am more than a match for your family. Mind you, if they get too pesky, they might still die._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. Yay, Yassen took it as a challenge to leave his family members alive. Sometimes, you just had to know which buttons to push. Oh, well.

* * *

_-C_

_Alright, goodbye then. I have a marriage contract to appropriate for 'totally legit' purposes._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen was really hoping that text conversation could have gone on longer. He saw Nile shoot him an amused glance and watched the man deliberately pull out his phone in slow motion, daring the speaker to call him out for it.

* * *

_-N_

_Bored, are we?_

_-C_

* * *

Cossack scowled at his phone. He was a professional and he didn't get bored. Nile could fuck right off. Speaking of which, how did Nile get his number?

* * *

_-C_

_You aren't supposed to have this number. It is for clients._

_-N_

* * *

Nile smirked. Provoking Cossack was way more fun than listening to this pile of shit. Besides, technically, SCORPIA was a client. Cossack was 'freelance'. Nile figured he just liked working for other people without the bosses taking a cut.

* * *

_-C_

_SCORPIA is one of your biggest clients. Talking to Blondie?_

_-N_

* * *

Nile was right, but Yassen wasn't about to admit it. This was a competition, of course. Was it asinine and slightly testosterone induced? Yes. Was he going to back down? Hell, no.

* * *

_-N_

_I was conducting delicate client negotiations. None of your business, of course._

_-C_

* * *

Nile grinned and made a mental note to put that down as his excuse if anybody asked. It wasn't likely that they would, but Yassen was great at bullshit. A bit of a surprise, considering the man was basically antisocial, but Nile was going to put that down to SCORPIA's classes.

* * *

_-C_

_Nasty as usual. Definitely talking to Blondie, then._

_-N_

* * *

Cossack glared at his phone. Well, he would have, if he was alone. He settled for giving it the evil eye. Nile's interest in Alex needed to be discouraged and this seemed as good a time as any.

* * *

_-N_

_I might take a few body parts off if you keep poking around where you don't belong._

_-C_

* * *

Nile grinned. Temper, temper. Besides, he could use the workout and Cossack should know better than to tempt him with a fight like that. This was going to be fun.

* * *

_-C_

_Challenge accepted._

_-N_

* * *

Cossack sighed. He could just strangle Nile in his sleep. Though, it would be pretty bad for his life expectancy if Chase took it personally. Chase would, too. Just to be a bastard. This was going to be a stealth game.

* * *

_-N_

_If that is how you want to play it, may the best assassin win._

_-C_

* * *

Nile looked at his phone. Game on, bitch. Way better than the boring assembly. Nile was about to type a reply, but they were dismissed for a break. He made sure to saunter right over to Yassen. "So. Challenge accepted."

Yassen gave him a cool once over. "Alright then."

The man placed his fork down deliberately. Unfortunately, they were spotted just as Nile began anticipating the first punch. "No, no, no. Not in the building, you two."

Nile managed to paste a sheepish look on his face as D'Arc walked up. Yassen looked as icy as ever. The Doctor interjected. "Nile."

Yassen repressed the faint smug smirk that threatened to cross his face. "Yassen."

Yassen had no regrets whatsoever. "What pray tell, are you two going to fight about?"

They looked at each other. This was strictly between the two of them and nobody else. SCORPIA was not getting involved. "A personal matter."

Yassen answered first, giving Nile a glare. The man echoed his statement exactly. "A personal matter."

They began to circle each other. The people near them began to slowly back away from the scene, just in case. "Enough. I will not have you two killing each other."

Yassen resisted the urge to pout. Damn. He had been so close to putting a fork in Nile's artery. Nile looked openly disappointed. "Do I need to put you two in group therapy?"

It was Chase. Yassen shuddered inwardly at the thought. Group therapy. For assassins. Was the man going senile? "Absolutely not, Mr. Chase."

Nile shook his head. Spending time in a closed room with Cossack _and_ a shrink? Hell, no. "No, sir."

Chase sighed. "Yassen, out."

Yassen walked off and decided to take it as early dismissal from the assembly. Yassen made sure to brush right up against Nile. Nearly everybody flinched at that. "Until next time, Griffon."

Nile gave him a look. The man wasn't backing down. Oh, well. This was going to be a pain in the ass, but it would be worth it. "Hit me with your best shot, Gregorovich."

Yassen smirked inwardly. Famous last words, especially because he was one of the best snipers in the world. Chase sighed loudly behind them. Challenging the world's best sniper with that was...hmm...not the best idea. Yassen walked straight out of the school, or rather, he had intended to. He was stopped on the way by a certain _persistent_ doctor. Grr. Time for the bullshit to begin. He hated working here sometimes.


	51. Contracts and Resignation

Three had effectively cornered him. Yassen was not about to just walk away. Just wonderful. The doctor was not an easy man to 'accidentally' ditch, especially when he followed you out the door and onto the edge of the grounds. "Yassen."

Yassen turned. "I think we are about far enough."

The executive board member could almost admire that degree of paranoia. He was fairly confident Yassen wasn't about to murder him, even if they were in a camera blind spot. They were there to give the _illusion_ of privacy. Both Yassen and he knew this. "So, Yassen, why are you and Nile at each other's throats?"

Yassen huffed. "We are having a disagreement over the handle of a certain ongoing situation."

Three was piqued. There were very few things that were singular enough to provoke this amount of dramatic action. "And this requires one of you to murder the other?"

Yassen looked at then man. "Well, I told him to keep his hands out of it, but he hasn't listened."

Three looked bemused. Yassen occasionally wanted to punch the smirk off the man's face. "Yes, telling Nile to keep his hands out of something tends to have the opposite effect when one is the same rank. Did you two, perhaps, consider some sort of compromise?"

Yassen scowled. "There is no compromise."

Three just raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought as much. Do you two really want to have the logistics branch in for arbitration?"

Yassen resisted the urge to glare at the man. The logistics branch was rather infamous for being a bunch of penny-pinching bastards, and their version of arbitration would not leave him very happy. "Not in the slightest. If I can just impale Nile's carotid on the nearest dinner fork, it will all go away."

Three was resisting laughter. Yassen was one of his favorites for a reason. So quiet, so homicidal. "Yes, Yassen, but sadly we very much want Nile alive and able to do his job."

Yassen looked at him with a look of resignation. "And he had better not have any kind of accident with you anywhere on the continent, either."

Yassen knew this was a threat and a promise. "Very well."

He could always find some other sucker to do the job. Alex had psychotic family members, right? Then again, Alex probably wouldn't appreciate more dead family members courtesy of SCORPIA. "You two will be meeting after lunch to discuss a compromise."

Yassen resisted the urge to hiss. "Very well."

Three smirked. "Do be nice."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "I am not a nice man and I will be destroying all the cameras before we begin."

Three resisted the urge to sigh. "Very well. I trust you two will not proceed to duel each other to the death after you destroy our security cameras."

Yassen shrugged. "He will not be dead after I finish, but if he attacks first, there will be consequences."

Three stepped back into the boundary. "I can live with that."

It would be Chase's problem, after all. Nile was having a very similar conversation with said board member at the moment.

* * *

Nile was not looking forward to his and Yassen's little, uh, talk. Yeah, that was definitely only going to contain only talking. No fighting, his ass. Grrr. Why couldn't he and Yassen just duke it out like a few of the others had done with major disagreements? Of course, that usually resulted in dead bodies, but it wasn't like they both didn't have a body count higher than the population of some small towns. Chase was eyeing him suspiciously from the minute Yassen walked in to finish his lunch. They both exchanged a look. Nile wasn't quite sure, but he felt like it was a 'can you believe this shit' look. Yassen looked rather sour, so Nile pretty much guessed he'd gotten the same 'don't murder each other, you're both too profitable' talk as he had. Otherwise, he would look like the cat that got the canary or somewhat similar and more Yassen-y. The entire cafeteria was nearly dead silent. Eerie and still, like the moment before a gun was fired. Nile didn't blame them. Neither he nor Yassen was known to be particularly patient if they were already in a piss-poor mood. Nile recalled several occasion where Yassen had shot people for simple mistakes or being "annoying". Nile could honestly say he wasn't all that much better, plus he was pretty much the Brendan Chase's de-facto executioner if someone screwed up badly enough to warrant the man's undivided attention. Yassen was getting older, but Nile knew fighting him would not be without its' own risks. For one, Cossack was one of the few people who could actually win against him. The man also had a pretty terrifying reputation, with good reason. Nile was pretty sure Yassen would win a fair fight against him, but not for much longer. He was getting close to thirty-five, after all. Alex was well worth the fight, in Nile's opinion. Plus, winning would have given him a huge reputation boost. It was a pity they weren't allowed to actually carry through with it. Nile watched Yassen from across the room. Yassen finished with his usual grace and soundlessly set the silverware down. Nile placed his silverware at the side of his plate. The two board members were watching them like hawks. Everybody knew what kind of damage you could do with the evening cutlery. Mind you, it was steel evening cutlery. Silver was too soft to stab people effectively. It would bend like crazy and occasionally broke. They both got up and headed to the nearest small conference room. The door shut behind Nile with a slam. Nile wondered if Yassen was going to straight-up strangle him. To his surprise, the man reached toward a spot on the wall and ripped a small camera out. Nile flinched.

* * *

Yassen went for the next one with a little more force than strictly necessary. Rip. Crunch. Property destruction was oddly satisfying. Rip. Crunch. Rip. Crunch. Rip. Crunch. Nile stared at him in horror. "What are you doing?!"

Yassen blinked. Rip. Crunch. "Debugging."

Nile kept looking at the man like he had lost his mind. Everybody who was smart enough to discover those cameras was smart enough to know SCORPIA really did _not_ appreciate when you ripped them out of the wall and various...other...spots. "The bathroom?!"

Yassen had made a beeline for the place after. "They might listen through the door."

Rip. Crunch. Rip. Crunch. "Hmm. Only two. Odd."

Nile gaped. "Only?!"

Yassen continued searching the toilet. "Ah, here we go."

Rip. Crunch. "Best not to stop at three."

Nile stared. Okay, he could not _possibly_ be blamed for Cossack losing his shit and ripping all the bugs out. Chase wasn't unreasonable, even if he was obsessed with that Pierre dude. Well, Nile wasn't going to pry, but he was beginning to think Chase was just as bananas as Rothman, he just hid it better. "The good doctor gave me permission."

Never mind. Everyone in this joint was batshit. Nile was going to need more therapy. ASAP. He needed Blondie to tell him to screw off again. That would make this normal. "Fuck. You're going to drown me in the tub instead of strangling me."

Yassen gave him an amused look. "Actually, I was going to impale your carotid on the nearest fork, but the good doctor intervened."

Nile just glared at him. This was not helping his nerves. "Cossack."

Rip. Crunch. "After I am done."

Nile sighed. It was about fifteen more minutes before Yassen was satisfied he got them all. Nile was patently horrified by the sheer amount of money this was probably going to cost. Holy shit, the guy was fucking nuts. Three must really like the guy. Nile shuddered at the thought of what Chase would do to him if _he_ was the one destroying fancy surveillance equipment on a whim. "Cossack."

The man's cold blue eyes flick up to him. Nile realized he sounded out of breath. "What are we going to do about Blondie?"

Yassen's eyes hardened to ice. " _We_ are doing nothing. _He_ is _mine_."

Nile felt his temper beginning to rise. "Fuck you."

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "You have an alternate plan?"

Nile sighed. "Alternating months?"

They both knew the Yassen would not live in the same house as him. "Alternating every six weeks; I get the first one and you do the kidnapping."

Nile huffed. "Why do I get the brunt end of this?"

Yassen huffed. "Because you have the combat team that also specializes in kidnapping."

Nile felt like he'd been swindled. "Fine. Can I punch you, at least?"

Yassen smirked. "You could, but then I would be forced to break your face on the shiny marble sink."

Nile swore under his breath. "Language. We _will_ be co-parents soon."

Nile raised his hand in a very rude gesture. "Screw you, Cossack."

Yassen smirked. "If we did that part of parenting, _Nile_ , you would be _the_ _wife_."

Nile resisted the urge to punch Yassen in the face for that. His voice came out even, though. "Really, dude?"

Cossack smirked. It was then Nile noticed the man was bleeding. "You're bleeding."

The man didn't look down. "I will live, rest assured."

Somehow, that cheery thought was not going to let Nile sleep any easier. "Do you want help taking care of that?"

Yassen gave him a very suspicious once over. "Fine, but if I start feeling the slightest bit sleepy I will stab you. Painfully."

Nile sighed. He had a feeling this was going to be a long day and they hadn't even started curriculum negotiations yet.

* * *

Alex Rider was back to the house again. Ian was relieved. Perhaps more relieved than he should have been. Alex was mostly responsible with his train trips. Besides the occasional trip to Japan to shoot at the Yakuza. And the occasional trip to Germany stalking terrorists. Ian wasn't sure what to do. It had all seemed so right until it didn't. Then there was Crawley and contract killers and _another_ kill mission. The stupid family had to get involved on top of all that. It was a complete and utter disaster. At least Alex and Tom managed to have a fun dead-body free day in the park together, by all accounts. Ian sighed. He felt like he was failing personally and that was not including the whole transfer program thing. Amanda had probably already told him. What was he supposed to do? He couldn't up and quit his job. Patrick was already on his case about preventing incidents. The man would probably be frothing with fury if he found out about the latest incident. Patrick was freaking perfect. Never forgot a damn thing in fifty goddamn years. He was trying _okay_? It was just so goddamn hard. Ian wasn't really sure what to do. He could never be as self-assured as the rest of them. John had always known what to do. Ian was never meant to be doing this alone. Alex had a dog, sure, but Ian knew it was not exactly a good replacement. Jack Starbright had taken care of it until Alex had one day found out what he actually did for a living. And then, everything had started crumbling. Aunt Crazy had made sure to twist the knife before leaving. Ian wasn't sure whether to be proud or angry. Alex had technically gone above and beyond, but it had been terribly risky. The child was far from fully trained and even if he had been, Ian wouldn't have wanted him to go. Ian didn't want this life for Alex. It should have been better. Alex shouldn't have gotten the attention of the damn rest of the family. Or the assassins. Or his bosses. Like he couldn't see the grasping glint in Blunt's eye. Ian would say screw it all and kill Blunt himself before that happened. The family was bad enough. Alex was not inheriting his job. Ian unlocked the secret compartment in his bedroom. Alex wasn't the only one. His bedroom door was locked for his private bedroom. Inside his wall was a case. In the case was a suit of armor. The family had a few toys that were ahead of everybody else. Ian touched the armor, running his hands over it. It was lighter than kevlar and stronger than steel. John had given it to him before the whole SCORPIA ordeal. It was Alex's when he became old enough, but for now, Ian was its owner. The armor was said to be a gift from the embodiment of death. Ian didn't believe in it, but the stuff was a miracle. There was also a smaller case inside. Ian picked it up. It contained the family throwing knives and sword. John's complete set from SCORPIA was in the basement, but these were from before. Passed down. Ian wasn't sure how old they were. Alex would learn how to use the knives first, but this year, they would start the sword in earnest. Ian ran his hand over the blade. It was nearly three feet long and made of steel. He had learned to use it from the age of twelve. When he was older he had used the sword and armor to carry out many assassinations that were sanctioned only by himself. Technically, he was also an assassin who had his own codename and file at MI6. In the same cabinet as "Cossack" and "Nile". Ian thought it was particularly ironic that he was their best agent and one of their most wanted assassins. He turned the blade in his hand as he tried to make up his mind about whether or not to outright hunt down and kill Nile as "Shade". Ian sighed and put the blade away. Nile was safe from him for now.

* * *

Alex was enjoying his few days off with Tom before he spotted a drug dealer in the park. He mentally cursed. At least Skoda was dead. Tom noticed his sour mood right away. "What's wrong?"

Alex subtly pointed at the man. Tom's gaze sharpened. "Yeah, I don't like it either. What are we going to do about it?"

Alex huffed. "We are doing nothing. _I_ will take care of this."

Alex fingered his knife and prepared to follow the man. Tom grabbed his forearm. Alex was so surprised that Tom nearly got a lethal strike to the face. "The hell I'm not. This affects _us,_ to. He sells to Brooklands."

Alex practically hissed. "You'll bring it to the group."

Alex stiffened. Then, he reminded himself that this was Tom, not Ian or Blunt. Tom was his friend. Alex looked at Tom. The difference was that his friend was actually concerned with his well-being. He loosened instantly and felt something twist inside him. "Alright."

Tom looked a little shocked. "Really? You're usually more...um...strong-willed."

Alex gave his friend a look that said he wasn't at all fooled by Tom's attempt at diplomacy. Tom stepped back. "For you, Tom, I will try."

Tom let his arm go. "You're not going to give me the silent treatment for this, are you?"

Alex gave Tom a look that was more amusement than anything else. "No, Tom. I'm not Ian."

Or _John Rider_. _Certain people_ would do well to remember that. Tom grinned. "Thank, God. We'd never do anything remotely fun or unhealthy ever again."

Alex was overcome with a wave of uncontrollable laughter before he could stop it. The funny part was that Tom was completely right. Tom poked him after a minute. Alex managed to quit. "What?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Are you sure you're feeling okay? There's a children's shelter nearby and an asylum in walking distance."

Alex cracked a crooked smile that he knew was one of Tom's favorites on him. "Never been better."

Tom's disbelieving look suggested his friend really didn't believe him but was going to let it rest for the moment. "Hey, Tom, speaking of group things, I want to get Jamie out of his marriage contract."

Tom gave him a long look. "How?"

Alex gave Tom a grin that would send shudders down the spine of any sane, law-abiding citizen. "We're going to make sure what's-her-name-"

Tom interjected. "Megan Spencer."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Megan _dearest_ breaks that contract so hard it may as well have spontaneously combusted. Bonus points for publicly ruining her reputation."

He honestly didn't give a shit what her name or pedigree was. Jamie was not getting married off like a piece of property to some _inbred cow_. Alex would personally run her and her entire family through with a kitchen knife before that was a scenario. Some of his murderous intent must have shown because Tom gave him a look that was a mix of concern and consternation. "Alex, I love you, but I will turn you in if you murder them without a good reason."

Alex gave Tom a look. "My plan is way better than that Tom. Everybody knows that the two things rich people like are drugs and orgies. I just plan to film her in the act."

Tom glanced at Alex. "And how do you plan to get her into cocaine-filed orgies?"

Alex gave Tom a grin. "Don't worry. It'll all work out splendidly."

Tom trailed after him and attempted to get the leash back on Fenrir's collar while trying to follow Alex. Fenrir dodged the leash attachment repeatedly. "Alex that's not very reassuring."

Alex was already out of earshot. Tom sighed.

* * *

Ian Rider heard the boys getting home, rather than seeing him. He was, of course, barred from the current investigation into Nile. Jones wanted him alive and Ian was not known for bringing back SCORPIA assassins back in less than six pieces...ever, in fact. Ian felt a smug sort of pride at that. He was rarely that aggressive without severe provocation, but Ian felt that every last member of SCORPIA deserved to be hacked into pieces and was more than happy to do it for himself. He'd lost John and they would certainly target Alex given half the chance. Anyway, Ian was focusing on the boys getting home. Right. Alex wasn't speaking to him. Ian was almost in tears again. Right. Maybe he should try to sleep more. Ian felt a bleak sort of mood set over him. Goddamnit. Why did they all have to be so _stubborn_? His way was best. Ian would defend his decision to keep Alex away from the family cult until he was dead and blue in the face. Because fuck them. They had done bugger all after John died. Ian had gone AWOL and hunted down quite a few of a certain school's graduates for revenge. Jones had just barely managed to cover up the fact that it was him. After that, he was always told no more and that MI6 wanted them alive. Hiss. It wasn't enough. It would never be enough. John and Helen were dead and the hole in his chest still ached and burned. Ian knew that John wouldn't want him to go on a murder spree, but it was a little too much to ask. John was the golden child, after all. Not him. Never him. Yet, he had never hated the man, his brother, for a single second. John was just _too John_ to ever really hate. _Ian, promise me…_ Sorry, John. There was a promise that didn't have an ice cube's chance in hell. _At least take care of Alex._ I'll do my best. _And Ian?_ Yes, John? His brother had been in one of his rare intense moods. _Don't trust Alan Blunt. He's a fanatic. Fanatics will always turn on you in the end. They go crazy._ Ian had taken that advice, but he hadn't understood at the time. He wished John was still here. Alex and Tom were in the kitchen. Ian was still kneeling in his room. He sighed as he rose. Ian knew he was almost too old for this. Even still, Blunt would want him until retirement age at the very least. Ian knew best of all what happened when you said no to Blunt. MI6 pretty much used him as the go-to for non-civilian blackmail, after all. Plus, you know, being their back-up assassin. You know, he just loved doing stuff outside of his job description of an intelligence agent. At least Tulip got him the extra pay for it. Ian was not about to do that shit for what they paid him normally. Then again, having MI6's protection was a pretty decent bonus. Ian sighed as he wondered how to approach Alex. It would help if he hadn't crapped up their relationship with the whole I-forgot -your-birthday-two-years-in-a-row debacle. Crawley was heading up the Nile investigation but had said no when Ian wanted in. John's reasoning was that Ian would track the man down and murder the crap out of him, resulting in them both being on probation. Ian hadn't been able to look Crawley in the eye and promise to bring that _fucking terrorist_ in alive, so no information for him. MI6 was turning into a bunch of pacifist pansies. Damn it. Ian remembered a time when they would have sent a bunch of people out with sniper rifles that cost you about a grand and four Russian lives on the black market. Needless to say, his bosses were on pretty thin ice. Oh, well. Ian knew he wasn't going to get the info he wanted legitimately or semi-legitimately. Time to go old-school. Ian took out a bug that was the size of a piece of confetti. Patrick had forked 'em over no questions asked when he said Alex might be in danger. Of course, Patrick would probably have a way to listen in, but Ian figured they could agree on protecting Alex. Crawley had been nice enough to tell him when and where the debriefing was supposed to take place. Ian would just have to stick the thing inside a piece of gum and get it in the room. Nobody would know the difference. Now, he just had to get Alex to take more lessons from him.

* * *

Alex felt a little suspicious when Ian started hovering at the edge of the room where he and Tom were. Years of on-again, off-again intelligence work had honed his sense of when somebody wanted to talk in private with him. It was about time to apologize and make-up with Ian, anyway. Alex's rage had pretty much cooled as much as it was ever going to. The inward sigh. Alex wondered if other people kept this much behind a poker face. Tom glances at him and then at Ian and paused. "Tom, I need to talk to Ian."

His friend hovered. "In private."

Tom slowly left the room with a lot of backward glances. Alex felt a sense of amusement and warmth toward his very concerned friend. Ian hesitated at the edge of the room. "Well, go on then. You've only been hovering for the past hour."

Ian gave him a dry look. "And you left me standing."

Alex gave his uncle an innocent look that neither of them believed. "I'm helping you stay fit Ian, that way your heart doesn't fail you in your old age."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Sure you are, brat."

Alex smirked. "Oh, but you love me anyway."

Ian gave him a wry look. "Heaven help us both."

Alex snorted. "Was there a point you were getting to, uncle dearest, or do you just like messing with my somewhat paranoid mind?"

Ian sighed. "Yes."

Alex gave his uncle an expectant look. "You could have just asked me to lunch like a normal person."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Oh, but would you have gone?"

Alex shrugged. "My issues with you notwithstanding, yes."

Ian let out a long, slow breath. "Sooo, since Aunt Crazy decided to _reiterate_ how important family traditions were. I decided to teach one I happen to like. Sword fighting."

Alex stared. Well, in truth, Nile was the only person he knew who actually carted around swords to fight with. "Um, okay."

Ian huffed. "You could look a little more excited."

Alex retorted. "And you could spend more time remembering my birthday and less time bickering with Aunt Marion and Patrick about my curriculum, but you don't."

Ian looked like a dying deer with the way his eyes projected his feelings. "I thought we were speaking again."

Alex rolled his eyes. "We are. I've got better ways of getting back at you than the silent treatment. Plus, I'm mostly over it, you know."

Ian gave him an odd look. "Was there anything you wanted?"

Alex mentally groaned. He wanted to snap out something hurtful. _A damn card on time would have been enough._ "Can you take me to the Tower of London? Just the two of us."

Ian seemed vaguely surprised. "Sure."

Alex gave him a smirk. "After all, I never finished my tour after I ran away from the church school trip."

Ian laughed. "Try not to burn down any more churches on route. Jones will have a fit."

Alex gave Ian a wide-eyed look. "I was trying to help."

Ian chuckled. "I don't think the Church of England wants your _inflammatory_ brand of help, Alex."

Alex pouted. "Too bad. It definitely improved the service."

Ian shook his head. The man's eyes were glistening with amusement. "Touché."

Alex returned to the subject at hand. "So, sword fighting."

Ian did a sort of theatrical flourish. "To the basement."

Alex rolled his eyes. Ian should have become an actor. It would have been far less trouble for all involved. Alex followed him down to the basement. He figured Tom and Fenrir could get along for a few hours with him. Fenrir seemed to actually like his friend. They both went into Ian's study and Ian got them both in. "I've been meaning to ask you about the lab."

Alex had seen this coming for ages. "I figured I could get it up and running. Don't worry about it, Ian."

Ian let it lie. Alex had gained a few inches on the man, but he still barely came up to mid-chest. Ian ruffles his hair. "You've grown."

Alex gave him a wry look. "Kids do that Ian unless all those health lessons were a lie."

Ian barked out a laugh. "You know, this reminds me of a time when Helen got food poisoning when she met the family."

Alex felt a soft smile appear on his face. "So, what happened?"

Ian smiled. It was a rare thing. "Well, as it so happens, your father had brought her to a somewhat dodgy restaurant the night before…"

* * *

Ian remembered that night as clear as day. Helen has walked in wearing a tasteful blue dress. Ian had stared a bit. She looked lovely, after all. She never had eyes for anybody else after she met John. John had closed the door behind them and walked in with a smile on his face. He was definitely the better-looking brother. After a few polite greetings, they had all sat down to dinner with Ian and the parents. His mother had prepared a pork chop for them and greens. She'd really gone all out and made asparagus and those hand-mashed potatoes, too. Ian had laid out the actual silverware and the fancy wine-glasses. Ian had been surprised when his mother had brought out the fancy china. Man, she must have really wanted grand-kids. Helen had sat down while his parents cooed over the couple. Well, his mother did. "A nurse. Such a lovely caring woman. John must have met you at the hospital. What, with his frequent accidents, I'm glad you're around."

His father had sat with the appropriate amount of approving stoicism. "You seem quite lovely, Ms. Beckett. Tell me, any relation to a Patrick Beckett? Dark hair and eyes. We met each other during the war. Bit of a rough sense of humor."

Helen had looked at the man. "Oh, he's my father. It sounds exactly like him."

His father had seemed startled for a minute. "He must be proud. You're a lovely woman. You resemble your mother quite closely. It was a shame when she passed."

Helen stared in shock. "You knew my mother, too?"

Ian had felt a little sorry for her then. "Yes, not well. We lost touch when they moved to Israel after the marriage."

Helen had looked at the man. Ian realized this must be the most anybody had ever spoken of her dead mother. Patrick Beckett was not really a warm, comforting individual if memory served. Quite the opposite, in fact. His father seemed to either take mercy or have pity on her. "She was quite beautiful. Her hair was fairer and her eyes were blue but nearly grey instead of your color. She liked to cook vegetarian and never did get her pork to cook anything less than dry to the bone. She enjoyed dancing the waltz and knitted your first blanket and her favorite color was green."

It was the most Ian had ever heard his father talk. The man usually answered in monosyllables or went into long, manly lectures about weapons or spycraft. Ian had never seen the man remotely sentimental about any person and pets were strictly banned in the Rider household when they were children. Helen had given the man a rather watery smile. "Thank you."

His father had cut into the perfectly cooked pork chop. "You are welcome, Ms. Beckett."

His mother proceeded to heap extra vegetables on her plate and began to insist she take the leftovers. She was like that. Helen seemed to bare it quite gladly. "You really must. I imagine nursing and cooking for John must be quite taxing. Your poor feet."

Ian felt his lips twitch. His mother had wanted a daughter, but his father insisted they stop after two kids. John looked at him across the table and they were both restraining their laughter. It was the first time he'd looked away from Helen the whole evening. Ian couldn't exactly blame his brother. John seemed pretty serious about her. Brought her home and everything. Suddenly Helen looked quite ill. "Are you alright, dear?"

His mother, while talkative, was not stupid. "I believe I need to borrow your washroom."

His mother had escorted her to the bathroom with the whole family trailing. Helen walked in a promptly through up into the toilet. John was delicately holding her hair. "Could you be pregnant?"

Ian was occasionally horrified at his father's complete and utter lack of sensitivity. Fortunately, Helen had a sense of humor, even while retching into a toilet. "Not unless the nursing school was a lie and you can get pregnant by sitting in the loo."

Ian had been unable to contain his snort at his parents' relieved expressions. His father spotted John's offended look. "I apologize, Ms. Beckett. If you are not feeling up to the ride home, John can stay in his old room and you can stay in the guest room."

* * *

Alex stared at Ian. He _never_ told stories or got sentimental the last time. 'What happened next?"

Ian smiled. "She stayed the night with mum fussing over her like the mother hen she was."

Alex looked at his uncle. "And then?"

Ian shrugged. "Well, she and your dad kept dating. Your grandparents had a bit off a row, but I think mum put her foot down because dad never actually tried to break them up like Patrick did. But, that's a story for another day."

Alex mentally sighed. Well, at least he had one story about his parents from Ian. Ian was sitting in his lab. "So, what do you do here?"

Alex gave him a look. "For a spy, you aren't very subtle."

Ian grinned. "For a twelve-year-old, you aren't very innocent."

Alex grinned. He'd missed this, not that he'd ever admit it to anyone other than Tom. Or maybe Jack, in a pinch. "Oh, and whose fault is that?"

Ian smirked. "I blame Patrick and Aunt Crazy. It works wonders."

Alex snorted with laughter. "They say the same thing about you."

Ian threw up his hands. "Grey hair. You're all going to give me grey hair, I swear to God."

Alex grinned. "Oh, but then you might actually look your age and people will stop thinking you and Jack are a couple."

Ian promptly elbowed him in the side. Alex knew it was a sore point for both his uncle and Jack. Alex just kept shamelessly smiling. "Low blow, Alex."

Alex smirked. "So do you or Crawley-"

Ian didn't even want to know how Alex was planning on finishing that sentence and had lightly swatted him upside the head. Alex's eyes were sparkling with mirth. "Insufferable brat."

Alex mock scowled. "Grumpy, humorless old codger."

Ian yelped. "I'm not _that_ old."

Alex took the bait. "Yes, you are. You're old enough to be Jack's father, you shameless old man."

Ian gave him the evil eye. "You know full well _that_ was never on the table."

Alex couldn't wipe the stupid grin off his face to save his life. "So you're two-timing Jack and Crawley? For shame."

Ian rolled his eyes and gave up. Sarcasm was the answer to all of life's problems, right? "Yeah, and Tulip, but don't tell anybody."

Alex was torn between laughing and gagging at that mental image. Ian looked satisfied that he'd 'won' one of their conversations. Alex glared and then mock-whined. "Ian, I'm permanently traumatized by that mental image."

Ian rolled his eyes. "You have Belinda. Patrick pays for it."

Alex pouted. "Speaking of Belinda, I wanted to discuss terms."

Ian sighed. "For what?"

Alex looked at him funny. "Our relationship."

Ian was suddenly serious. "What do you want?"

Alex snorted. "Not much. I want you to knock and I want you not to go through my mail. The paper one, that is."

Ian huffed. "But-"

Alex cut his protests off. "In return, if shady people send me threatening letters, I'll let you know."

Ian opened his mouth. "But-"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Have I ever not come and gotten you, with the exception of that first note?"

Ian stopped. "Well, no, but-"

Alex cut him off. "I'm twelve and I need my privacy."

Ian was quiet for a bit. "Alright, then."

Alex let out a sigh. "Is that all?"

Alex smirked a bit. "I'd like if you quit bugging my phone, but I realize it won't happen anytime this century."

Ian gave him a sort of half-smile. "No, it won't."

Ian got up and headed toward their underground training center. The weapons wall rivaled Malagosto. "Shall we get started?"

Alex took the sword that was held out to him. He weighed it in his hand. It was pretty heavy. "Sure."

Ian gave him a playful sort of look. Alex was suddenly quite glad he'd come back.

* * *

Antonio Rodriguez was a patient man. Miguel had not exactly inherited that trait. The child had been surprisingly persistent about asking for Alex back. Antonio was actually quite surprised. Oh well, it was good Miguel was more obsessed with Alex and friendship than some local village girl. Antonio sighed as he viewed the latest records of the CIA agent he was supposedly sheltering. They were worse than a good majority of his men when it came to conduct. He was annoyed when they ignored his repeated insistence that they didn't have to take undercover _that far._ Plus, they ditched his security teams. Overconfident little shits. He hoped SCORPIA or one of his rivals murdered them in their sleep. Joe Byrne refused to listen to the hundreds of misconduct complaints he had his accountants/paperwork servants (they were paid) fill out. Apparently, all of his agents were perfect little angels. Antonio had done a little research into Alex's family, speaking of corrupt intelligence agents. That family of his was awful. No wonder the child had already run away twice. Antonio knew he wasn't the only one looking Alex's way. Outside the family politics, there were at least three contenders. The Black Circle wasn't nearly as subtle as they thought. At least, they weren't to Antonio. He suspected most of the others either couldn't, wouldn't, or didn't put the pieces together. MI6 and the CIA were both slippery when it came to their side of the damn treaty. Antonio was starting to wish he'd simply shot the two others when they came to his house. It would significantly reduce the headaches he had to deal with. Speaking of headaches, "Agent Smith" walked in. Antonio doubted it was the man's real name, personally. He didn't respond quite quickly enough after a few drinks to it. It, however, wouldn't matter after tonight. The man was not going to survive dinner, not that the _dear_ Agent knew that. Antonio stood up. "Do sit down, Agent Smith."

The man looked at him suspiciously but obeyed. He had to at least keep a facade of trying to keep Antonio happy. "What did you want?"

Antonio inwardly smirked. Rude, that man. "I can't eat dinner with one of my lieutenants? A shame, considering I've done it already with everyone else at least once a week."

He relaxed. Foolish, but Antonio was not exactly surprised. The man waited as the food came out. "How are you doing?"

The man immediately launched into a mix of complaints, the actual information that Antonio mentally cataloged, and excuses for why he wasn't following Antonio's rules. His words didn't really matter. Antonio had surrounded the man with men who were actually some of his most loyal. They had reported every last detail to him. The man thought he was so clever, trying to skim off the top and keep his rule-breaking a secret. Plus, he was communicating and attempting to work for some of Antonio's rivals behind both their backs. Antonio had his food poisoned to such a high dose, a single bite would kill the man. Agent Smith waited for him to take the first bite of their food before beginning. It was not nearly as secure a method as most people thought. You could use a long-term poison. You could have someone's specific glass or food spiked with radioactive pellets or liquid. You could use the time-honored method of swallowing oil and vomiting up the poison later - it only worked with certain ones. At any rate, the man should really know better than to accept a single bite of food from a cartel leader who had several reasons to be pissed off with him. Antonio had not been in a patient mood when selecting his poison. The effect was almost instantaneous. The man began choking almost instantly. "Agent Smith, tsk, tsk. Going behind my back and against my rules. You have ingested a species of death cap mushroom that grows in Mexican soil. This will be labeled a tragic cooking accident. I do not suffer traitors or fools."

* * *

After sword practice with Ian, Alex had one more stop to make in the house. He'd set up the plant Jack had given him in one of the tiny greenhouses in the basement and switched on the UV light. One of the relatives must have been paranoid about the others stealing or finding their work because all of the greenhouses were carefully made to look empty from the outside, no matter their true contents. The mirror design had surprised Alex with its intricacy. They could all let light in, but they did not reflect light out. It was interesting. Alex usually only saw that kind of design on interrogations rooms. Alex shuddered and tried not to remember the many theoretical lessons that thought brought up. The plant had already started to grow. Alex took it out of the greenhouse and noticed it gave off a faint glow. He took out his notes and recorded times, dates, and how much the plant grew. The vine had already needed a stake to hold it up. Alex noticed it was starting to bud, too. The buds seemed to glow brighter than the rest of the vine. All in all, it was shaping up to be a pretty interesting plant so far. Alex honestly had no idea what it was, which was an accomplishment, considering he'd done all of Jet's extended reading. Maybe it was just decorative? Jet only covered edible and extremely poisonous plants. Alex figured he would show it to Jack when it bloomed. The vine seemed to prefer tropical conditions. Alex had stuck it in the garden for two afternoons and it had turned yellow no matter how much he watered it. Some plants really were that picky. He wondered vaguely if Jet might know what it was. The only problems would be getting it to her and convincing her to spend some time on it. Maybe if he impersonated a professor online and wrote some papers on space-saving hydroponics that weren't technically invented yet? Alex would feel bad about stealing other people's work, but it might get him enough credit to open a communication line with Jet without arousing suspicion. There had to be nutty plant professors, right? Alex poked the vine a bit and it shone brighter where he touched it. Hmm. He scribbled down the results. Alex knew he was going to get a professional opinion on the vine before putting it in a garden. It would be irresponsible not to, after all.


	52. Almost Back to Normal

Alex thought his week was going pretty well. Tom had to go back to school, but Alex had his own studies to keep him busy. Alex ran his hands through Fenrir's as the dog, once again, tried to take the book from Alex. He chuckled as Fenrir did what looked like a dog pout. "What is it, fluff? You normally let me study."

Fenrir let out a whine. "Oh, alright."

Alex got up and went to the door. He was genuinely surprised to see Joe Byrne there. "Hi. Ian's out."

Joe rolled his eyes and muttered. "Is Ian ever _not_ out?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Joe. "Are you here for something specific? I have actual college home-school to get back to."

Joe looked at him. "So, I'm actually here for you, Alex, or whatever your real name is."

Alex shrugged and let him in. "Alex is fine."

Joe sat down. "Hello, Joe. Do you want some tea?"

Fenrir began pacing. "What's the matter?"

Fenrir looked at Joe and then at him. "What Ian doesn't know won't give him an aneurysm, fluff. Don't worry."

Joe looked between him and the dog. "Your uncle let you adopt that monstrosity?"

Alex smirked. "Not exactly."

Joe began slowly scooting away from a fluffing up Fenrir. "You _do_ know what happened with the other 'dogs' of his 'breed', right?"

Alex gave Joe a rather wry grin. He could practically hear the air quotes. "Probably a good deal more than you, Joe."

Joe shuffled uncomfortably again. "What did you want, Joe?"

Joe shifted guiltily. Really, compared to Blunt, he was almost an open book. "So, um, the time you stayed with Antonio. Did you notice anything odd about him?"

Alex gave Joe a snarky look. "Besides the whole drug dealing thing, you mean? Cut to the point, Joe."

Joe sighed loudly. "I'm not really sure how to ask this."

Alex looked at Joe. "Just spit it out."

Fenrir was now approaching the man. "Fenrir, down. I like Joe's internal organs where they are."

Joe's lips twitched. "Thanks, so do I."

Joe cleared his throat and continued. "Well, Antonio murdered one of our agents last week. He claims it was a cooking accident with poisonous mushrooms, but, well…we don't believe him."

Alex nodded. "Is that all?"

Joe gave him a strange look. "I mean, I hope that's all."

Joe seemed to accept it. "You spent the longest around him and his son. We, well, the analysts, were hoping you could tell us a few things about him."

Alex thought for a minute. "I'm not really sure what to say. He was cold, ruthless. He could be charming, I suspect. Miguel loved him. Seemed pretty normal and crime boss-ish to me."

Joe sighed. "Right. I was hoping for maybe a few more details."

Alex ran a hand down Fenrir's back. The part he could reach, anyway. "What did you want to know?"

Joe shrugged. "Why he murdered the guy, basically. You don't have to talk to me."

Alex looked at Joe. He was a little more sensitive than Crawley or Tulip had been. "Most likely, your guy tried to pull something Antonio thought would hurt his business. It's all the bottom line with these guys, Joe."

Joe almost had another flashback to Odair. Of course, Odair had been talking about SCORPIA. "But what?"

Alex shrugged. "Beats me. I wasn't there. I didn't see it."

Joe shrugged. "Does he seem mentally stable to you?"

Alex tilted his head. "Yes. Almost too sane."

Joe pulled out a piece of paper. "Sorry, I'll try to file off the unnecessary ones. The analysts think a brief list of questions is one to five _pages_."

Alex grinned. "Anything for less paperwork, huh, Joe?"

Joe flipped him off. "My eyes, my innocent eyes."

Joe snorted. "I know for a fact you've used this hand gesture before."

Alex smirked. Joe scanned the list. "Abuse of any kind?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Not on children. He has some sort of code he follows.

Joe glanced at him. "No children?"

Alex shrugged. "Not to the best of my knowledge."

Joe sighed and groaned at the list. "I'm not asking a kid _that_ or _that_. I have a sense of decency."

Alex let out a long sigh. Joe could, apparently, take a hint. "Okay. One more and then we're done."

Alex lightly pets Fenrir some more. "Good."

Joe made a face. Alex was beginning to think Joe didn't like their questions. "Did he mention any other kinds of backing?"

Alex shrugged. "Not to me. He didn't exactly go on about his business, though. Pretty sensible about keeping his mouth shut, that one."

Joe ran a hand through his hair. Alex was texting the man as soon as this was over. "Thank you, Alex. You're very brave."

Alex barked out a laugh that was half surprise and half amusement. He wasn't exactly the torture-resistant type. "No, I mean it."

Alex was genuinely surprised. Blunt hadn't exactly been the thanking type. Ian wasn't exactly overflowing with gratitude, either. Alex chuckled softly. "No worries, Joe. Now, you best get lost. I don't think Ian likes you and he can legally kill you for trespassing because of his job."

Joe gave him a lopsided grin. "Yeah, I went to his boss for this one. Blunt...don't fuck with him, okay?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Goodbye, Joe. Go mentor your own kids or whatever it is you do with spare time."

Joe left.

* * *

That was one of the first conversations that Joe had enjoyed on a non-professional level in a long time. Odair had said in his last letter that Joe would meet someone else one day. Joe hadn't believed it, but maybe Odair's freakishly good (and very useful) intuition had struck one last time before he vanished off the face of the Earth. Joe fingered the letter he carried on him at all times. The analytics department had finished with it years ago and he had gotten it back. Jones had just given him a soft sympathetic look and shown him her picture of John Rider in her office, hidden behind a generic picture. _They were quite something, weren't they_? Joe sighed softly. He had officially given up the search, but unofficially… Well, his marriage had already been pretty dead and the kids in college. _Yes, Tulip, they were. They all were_. Joe remembered the good old days. The Cold War. There had been no SCORPIA then. That was how it all got started, though. They had been legends before they turned. Like Odair. Like John Rider. But of course, they went into business for themselves. Before Odair, even. Or at least, before Odair worked for them. Joe got the impression the man had worked for others during the Cold War and slightly after. Joe could still make his way to the Parliament building blindfolded. He decided to visit for nostalgia's sake. Joe got on a bus. The London bus system had been one of the few things he'd agreed was good in London. The bus was practically empty. It was a working day for most people and the hour was before any kind of rush. Apparently, he wasn't the only nostalgic one. "Joe."

The CIA and SCORPIA were on decent terms. That didn't mean either of them were without their security teams. He turned. "Brendan."

The Australian man was standing in the square. He was still quite good-looking if you like them tan, he supposed. Chase made his security team while Joe made his. "So, we're pretty evenly matched."

Joe raised an eyebrow. "You don't want to go that route, trust me."

Chase smirked. "That's what they all said. But today, for now, I believe you."

Joe rolled his eyes. "What do you want, Brendan?"

Joe deliberately used the man's first name. "Would you call me a liar if I said lunch?"

Joe quirked an eyebrow. "Yes."

Chase pouted but relented. "Well, you wouldn't be wrong. We came to let MI6 off their eleven-year no-hit hook."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Wow, really? We never get one and we sent more spies."

Chase smirked. "Yes, but we make them and execute them. Two, you're actually decently likable. Three, you never screwed us over like the others did."

Joe rolled his eyes. "Not my problem, I suppose."

Chase stretched out like a rather slinky cat. "So, are you coming to lunch or not?"

Joe rolled his eyes. "Fine. But I'm paying for my half."

Chase raised an eyebrow. "Don't be ridiculous, Joe. I make over twenty times your salary. Way over."

Joe snorted. "Nice try. Besides, this is on the company dime."

Chase smirked. "Good, embrace the corruption."

Joe mentally groaned. Some things never changed. "Shut the fuck up, Chase."

People had been shot for less, but Chase knew better than to kill him. The director would throw a hissy fit and shoot a bunch of expensive SCORPIA goons, after all. Chase kept right on walking with his shit-eating grin. "You haven't changed at all, Joe."

Joe could already feel the migraine. He already regretted accepting.

* * *

Ian Rider was at the bank. Alan Blunt was sitting across from him. "We had a visitor today." Ian grit his teeth. "You were kept from the bank. We wouldn't want someone interfering with that visit." Ian assumed Blunt would get to the bloody point soon. "You are not to accost, contact, kill, assault, threaten, or interact in any form, through any person, with Brendan Chase while he is in London, do I make myself clear?"

Ian felt the hate burn just beneath the calm veneer he was wearing. This was outrageous. "Yes, sir."

Agent Rider would not interact with him, at least. Blunt didn't know all of his secrets. Neither did Alex. Jones and Blunt had never connected him and "Shade". Mainly because "Shade" had once been three people and Ian had a solid alibi every time. Father, John, Him. They had all covered for each other so completely nobody had suspected even one of them. "Ian?"

It was Tulip. "Yes, Tulip. I understand completely."

Ian was so done with their shit it wasn't even funny. Jones sighed. "I was asking you if you wanted coffee, Ian."

Ian shrugged. "Don't drink it anymore."

He hadn't drank coffee in the office in years. "Ian, please."

Ian shrugged. "Alright, then."

Jones sat them down in her office. Coffee for her tea for him. "What do you want, Jones?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him. "I can't just want coffee?"

Ian smirked. "It's never just coffee. Just like it's never just surveillance, Tulip."

Tulip pursed her lips. "Please don't do anything stupid."

Ian gave her his most charming smile. "Relax, Tulip, I can always bomb the barge the board meets on later."

Tulip Jones just looked at him funny. "What?"

Tulip sighed. "Sometimes, I think we sent you on too many assassinations."

Ian smirked. "Don't get sentimental on me now, Tulip."

She continued, ignoring his interruption. "Sometimes, I don't think we sent you on enough."

Ian shrugged. "It's over now, Tulip. I can be an agent again. You can get hired guns now."

Tulip looked at him. "Ian."

Ian actually sat up and looked her in the eye. "Tulip?"

Tulip sighed. "Alan- I don't -"

Ian smirked. "Did you think I wouldn't notice the pattern Tulip? I was killing off his political rivals, too. You and I. We're stuck, Tulip. Don't do anything stupid, either."

Ian moved to get up. She physically grabbed him. Ian had her in a choke-hold before he registered it in his mind. Ian immediately dropped her. "You should know better than to grab anyone like me, Tulip."

Tulip was still gripping his forearm. "You can let go now."

The woman sighed. "Ian, _please_."

Ian stopped. Tulip _never_ said please. "It's Alex."

Ian instantly froze inside. "Alan let Joe Byrne visit him. He's grooming him to be the next John, Ian, except with more agencies."

Ian growled. "Not on my watch!"

Ian brought out his unauthorized 'pen'. The buzzing filled the air. Ian wasn't sure if it was the device or his own adrenaline. "Tell me, Tulip. Could you take over if Blunt suddenly went missing?

* * *

Ian Rider was stuck. He could either avenge his brother or secure Alex's future away from MI6, for the moment. Ian knew he shouldn't even be considering Chase, but the man was in London. In a district, he knew well. So _close_ . Ian could practically taste the man's blood. On the other hand, there was Alex. Alan Blunt was a ruthless man. Or he could do neither. He could go home on time for once. Be with Alex and the rest of his family. Plot both of their deaths with more planning. Ian _burned_ with fury. He wanted Chase's head on a _platter_ . Blunt's, too. Crawley found him in his office. Ian was pacing. "Blunt wants you to teach hand-to-hand today."

Ian snapped. "Bloody fuck, Crawley. I'm going to break someone's neck."

Crawley sighed. "Ian."

Ian glared at him. "What?!"

Crawley gave him a look. "Look, I'm not stupid. I'll come with you, but you're explaining this after."

Ian huffed. He was going to throw whoever had broken the combat instructor's wrist off the top of the building if he was unsupervised, so Crawley had a point. "Fine."

Ian walked down the hall with quick, silent strides. Crawley thought it looked rather like a puma stalking its' prey. Ian went into the classroom and opened the door so hard that it bounced off the wall it slammed into and one of the hinges bent precariously. "Alright. I'm Agent Rider, your substitute instructor today. Which one of you little imbeciles broken Johnson's wrist?" Crawley gave him the stink eye. There was a reason Jones banned him from training, you know. One of them raised their hand. "Oh, good. You'll go first." Crawley cringed inwardly. Ian's smile was more than a little predatory. "Go on, then. Throw a punch." Crawley resisted the urge to whimper. Ian was terrifying when he was homicidal and hot, but mostly terrifying. The poor man didn't have a prayer. Nonetheless, he attempted a punch. Ian was fast. Thud. Snap! Crawley cringed. Rookie one was floored with a broken wrist and probably collarbone, maybe some strained ribs. Ian didn't have an ounce of pity. "Up! Work on not telegraphing your moves. Next!" Jesus. Crawley cringed. Oh, no. They had fourteen more to go. The second one walked up to Ian. "You'll notice he's wearing an actual necktie. This is a bad idea." He turned toward rookie number two. "Go on then." The guy's punch completely missed and Ian had landed a strike near the eyes before proceeding to choke the man with his own tie. "Right, notice how I'm choking him." Ian bodily hauled the man up to the slightly terrified class. "Wear a clip-on. They're harder to garrote people with." Drops rookie number two. The man gasped for breath for a few minutes. Crawley watched as he proceeded to go through the entire class in seconds for each one. At least there were no more broken bones. Meep. He'd already texted Jones for medical and therapy for all of them. "Right, class, besides my little life tips for each of you, what did you learn?"

Rookie two spoke up. "You're a terrifying fucker."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Not quite what I had in mind." Ian surveyed the class. "Anyone? Anyone at all? This isn't rhetorical." Crawley sighed. Ian kept speaking. "Tsk. Regulations say motivational whippings are _strictly_ banned. Oh, well. My point here is that you don't want to face someone experienced or better trained in a fair fight. You'll die. Even I can't take, say, Yassen Gregorovich, in a fair fight. I'd die. We're spies, not assassins. Stealth, not fighting, is your greatest strength." Ian glanced at the clock. "Class dismissed!" Everyone practically ran out of there, even the guy with a broken collar bone. Crawley looked at Ian. Ian approached him slowly. "It's okay, Crawley, I won't hurt you."

Crawley inhaled. "Ian!"

The man gave him an innocent look. "What?"

Crawley glared at him. "You were a sadistic prick."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "Not as sadistic as a SCORPIA assassin when they catch agents. C'mon, Crawley, I barely bruised them. Well, except for the first one, but he broke Johnson's wrist."

Crawley shuddered at the mental image of Ian actually wanting to kill someone. "What would you do if someone broke mine?"

Ian smirked. "Throw them out a fifteenth-story window, of course."

Crawley hoped that was Ian's idea of a bad joke, he really did. "It's past your lunchtime by five minutes, Ian."

Crawley had never seen someone pack up class paperwork that fast before.

* * *

Crawley was antsy when they got home and Ian acted completely normal. Crawley could practically feel the rage simmering underneath. He watched Alex's sword lessons from the shadows. Ian didn't display any of his earlier rage or impatience. At least that was something. When everything was _finally_ done and they were alone together, Ian gestured for him to sit down. Crawley was genuinely afraid. Ian reached for his face. Crawley barely contained a flinch. "John, I'm not going to hurt you."

A touch as light as a butterfly's wing grazed his cheek. "Ian, you were-"

Ian sat down next to him. "Out of control. Yes, I'm sorry. It almost never happens." Ian lightly took his hand. John was now less panicked. Damn it, the man's eyes looked so very innocent. Like he hadn't just assaulted a trainee and wasn't plotting the deaths of the entire board _and_ Alan Blunt. "Feeling ambitious, Crawley?"

Crawley sighed. " _Ian._ "

Ian gave him one of his 'totally innocent' looks. "What?"

Crawley wondered how to put this. "We need more time to plan."

Ian sighed, loudly. "You're not wrong."

Crawley was bad at this. Jones was way better at the touchy-feely stuff. "You can't kill everybody yet."

Ian smirked. "Yet."

John snorted. "You know, I think murdering Blunt while Chase is in town will start a shitshow even we can't negotiate."

Ian sighed again. "Yeah, Jones' denial combined with Chase being his usual slimy self is a bad mix. Plus, Joe is in town."

Crawley shrugged. "True, plus, you know, we can always plan a less rushed murder later on."

Ian grinned. It was more sadism than actual happiness. "Yeah. I'm still not happy. I just wish Blunt would keep his grubby paws away from my family and out of my life."

Crawley grinned. "Aw, but then who would threaten him with decapitation by proxy?"

Ian smirked. "I'm sure Alex would take up the mantle admirably."

Crawley rolled his eyes. "Yes, we should _totally_ teach your nephew to death threat your boss on sight. Nothing could possibly go wrong here, nothing at all."

Ian grinned. "I'm not _that_ bad, Crawley. Alex is still alive and mostly sane. He hasn't been maimed that badly."

Crawley rolled his eyes. Honestly, that was normally the bare minimum. Of course, with Mini, it was a _real_ challenge, especially when Mini's favorite hobby was running away from home to vigilante kill other murderers. Gee, Crawley wondered where he got that from. Cough, Ian, cough. "Ian. I _really_ think you should read more parenting books. I'll even buy you them."

Ian gave him a Cheshire grin. "I think my improvisation works fine. Alex is turning out great. He even tested at college level."

Crawley just stared at the man. Then again, Ian and Alex were comparable in the walking, breathing trainwreck department. "We even have a nice family reunion planned."

Crawley sighed. "Yeah, just make sure there are no wells close enough for Aunt Crazy to drown him in."

Ian grinned. "I already did. She'll have to walk twenty-eight kilometers for well-drowning of any kind."

Crawley resisted the urge to facepalm. That was _supposed_ to be a joke. "We should go down to eat now."

Ian shrugged. "Yep. Is Starbright still clean?"

Crawley rolled his eyes. Honestly, that woman _loved_ Alex. "Yep."

* * *

Alex was preparing for his meeting with the Pretty Committee. Tom was impatiently waiting in his room at his bedside for Alex to finish packing for a stay-over. It was a wonder that the adults let them have co-ed ones, but Alex was not about to bring attention to the fact. "Are you done yet?"

Alex finished watering his recently sprouted plant. It had taken so long, Alex had worried it was actually dead. "Yes, Tom."

Some things never changed. "Are you really going to keep at the gardening?"

Alex grinned. "Yeah."

Tom fidgeted. "Could you teach me to do it?"

Alex shrugged. "Sure. Any reason in particular?"

Tom shrugged. "I figured you'd be sad if Jack killed half your plants."

Alex smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Tom. Jack would kill at least three-quarters _if_ I got lucky."

Tom burst out laughing. They exited his room. Fenrir followed. Ian glanced at the two of them and Alex's dog. "Behave, you two."

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Honestly, he had only burned one house down in two years. It was a record, you know. Ian drove them this time. Alex was genuinely shocked the man had gotten home on time. What? Joe was in town. Alex wasn't sure if he bought the man's excuse for being in London or not. They were in the car when Alex brought it up. "You know, Joe was in town and stopped by for a visit today."

Ian's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "Yes, Alan told me today."

Ian didn't like it, but Joe had gone over his head. Got it. Ian was telling the truth. Blunt had told him. Ian raised an eyebrow when he saw Alex's look. "What?"

Alex shrugged. "You're telling the truth."

Ian gave him a dry look before going back to the road. "Yes, I am. Try not to sound too surprised. It's vaguely insulting."

Alex was about to retort, but they were at the house. "Alright, this is your stop, you two."

Alex got out before Ian could change his mind. Tom looked at him after Ian drove off as they rang the doorbell. "Ditch cars often?"

Alex snorted. "Not really. Never hurts to be able to leave mid-lecture, you know."

Tom gave him an innocent look. "Yeah, but you can just leave the country."

Alex swatted him. "I thought you hated it when I run away from home.

It was truly unfortunate that Mandy chose that particular moment to yank open the door. "When did you run away from home? It didn't make the news."

Alex sighed. "It was only three times. Don't worry about it."

Mandy just stared at him. "Where did you _go_? What did you _do_?"

Alex gave her a charming smile. "As I said, don't worry about it."

Alex felt a faint hint of unease. Mandy swept them into the room they normally met. "Tonight, we are going out to eat. Try not to act completely uncivilized."

Alex wondered which sociopathic nutjob he'd run into this time. The world definitely had it out for him.

* * *

Alex changed into a suit Mandy had gotten him. Apparently, she didn't trust him or Ian to pick his clothes out. It was actually a good fit, but he still felt uncomfortable in suits. They reminded him of uncomfortable things. Why did they think taking eight kids to a fancy restaurant was a good idea? Alex sighed and just got in the car. Mandy patted him on the head. "There, there. The food will be good, I promise."

Alex rolled his eyes. It wasn't _the food_ he was worried about. Mandy had a pretty good taste for being the social-reject goth-girl persona. Then again, Alex was pretty sure she partly did it to mess with people. Alex adjusted his cufflinks. They were a little noticeable for his tastes. Mandy grinned. Alex rolled his eyes. "I'm not worried about the food. I just have a bad feeling about this."

Karen glanced at him. "It will be fine, Alex. Adrian can even legally drive us around now."

Alex gave her a half-hearted grin. "Meh, I'm probably just paranoid anyway."

Tom ruffled his hair. "Yeah, must have been one of those solo trips you took."

Alex swatted Tom on the elbow. Adrian hit the brakes a little too hard. Luckily they were in their parking spot. "Solo trips?! You're twelve."

Alex shrugged. "I was fine. Everything went fine. Nothing bad happened. Fine."

Adrian twisted the key out the lock a little faster than usual. Alex was afraid Adrian was going to break the doors they came across. "We'll talk after dinner."

Alex got out of the car. He'd really underestimated how nice the place would be. He'd eaten out at these sorts of places about five times max. Alex honestly preferred street food and places that didn't require a reservation. They walked into the swanky restaurant. The hostess eyed them oddly but didn't make any remark or do anything unsubtle. The staff here was trained, of course. To the highest levels of professionalism and discretion. It wouldn't do for any gossip to come out, of course. It was a nice candlelit place with a live band. Alex honestly hoped they wouldn't get booted.

* * *

They were seated off to the side. Alex noticed Joe and Chase at the opposite end of the room but forced his eyes not to linger. He should have known. Great. It was just what he wanted. Thankfully Amada was her usual opinionated self. "I take issue with the US intervention…"

Alex really appreciated having something to concentrate on. Adrian retorted. "I think they've got the right idea. Stomp it out before it floods out into the _civilized_ world."

Alex interjected. "Hey, Africa has a few good spots. Not to mention, judgmental much? They have their own unique…"

Tom was shaking his head. "I don't understand how you people find this interesting."

Alex had ordered for him and James in perfect French. Alex grinned. "Oh, but just think of the adults we can troll."

Tom looked at him for a minute. "Not all of us can write political satire about Spain in Spanish, you know."

Alex huffed. "I'll have you know, my series is widely appreciated in the more anti-establishment communities."

It was. Alex had been more than slightly amused to find out his storyline on 'vampires' in Mexico was popular in certain arenas. Tom rolled his eyes. "Maybe if you wrote me a translation, I'd get it."

Alex sighed. "It would lose a lot of jokes and culture. Just read my next one. It's going to be a Russian-style ballet about the intertwinement of relations between criminal organizations and intelligence agencies."

Mandy's eyes glinted. "Oooh. I want."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Not that any company in Russia would ever take that on. Too much politics, you see."

It was then a large party entered the restaurant. And immediately began to throw a fit over being able to sit on the same side of the restaurant. That would mean – oh, shit. The waiter looked apologetically at Joe and Chase. Who just seemed to sort of shrug. Shit. Shit. The waiter then seated them right next to the table. Why? Was his luck just this bad? Mandy huffed. "I dunno, your sponsor is decently well-connected. Maybe you could pull some strings for a private showing, especially if you make it more anti-capitalist and anti-west."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Back-up sponsor, Mands. I was chosen as an alternate, remember?"

There were appearances to be maintained. Even though Alex was ninety percent sure he was going to be on that trip. "Well-"

Mandy looked faintly guilty for a second. Alex raised an eyebrow. "Mandy?"

Mandy coughed slightly. "I may have, ummm, fixed the odds for you."

Alex groaned. "Amanda, you could have been arrest-"

Mandy placed her hand over his mouth. Joe and Chase were both obviously eavesdropping.

* * *

Alex just gave Joe a look. Chase simply walked up to their table with his plate a plopped down. "Soo. Arrest. Sounds fun."

Alex backtracked. "I may have been exaggerating a touch."

Yeah, with her family lawyers she'd get probation at most. "Oh, no. I wholeheartedly approve."

Uh, oh. Joe walked up sat next to Chase and rammed an elbow into the man's kidney. "That was completely uncalled for, Joe. I wasn't even corrupting the youth that hard yet."

Alex was desperately trying to control his laughter as Joe took the bicker-bait. "Chase, if you give any more people any ideas, I will ram this butter knife somewhere painful."

Chase grinned. "Good luck, silver is too soft to stab people with."

Joe shrugged. "Sure, but it'll leave a niiice painful welt for you to contend with."

Chase rolled his eyes and seemed wholly unconcerned. "Sooo. What are we plotting?"

Joe gave Chase a scandalized look. "What? I'm bored. Maybe the piwi-squad has something interesting. Plus, you know, sabotage is one of my specialties."

Joe groaned softly. "I must have done something in the past life and I hope I enjoyed every fucking second of it."

Chase turned his attention back on them. "What are you guys trying to sabotage the competition for anyway? UIL Math?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Hey! We're not that dorky. It's a Russian transfer program."

Chase had a look of unmitigated glee. Alex got the faint inkling that asking SCORPIA bosses for help with open-ended sabotage stuff was like calling an ambulance for a wilted potted plant. "Oh, good. Now I'm not bored."

Joe was massaging his temples. "Why are you doing this, Chase?"

Chase was looking outright manic. Alex was genuinely afraid for his sanity. "I have a vested interest in the next generation, Joe. A little arson here and little physical assault there and poof you get some recruits."

Joe just looked at him and made a sound that sounded vaguely like a squished squirrel. Chase turned back to him. "So what did you guys have planned?"

* * *

Mandy had grinned savagely and told him. Alex had been doing his best not to pound his head against the table. Chase had been surprisingly helpful. Alex wasn't sure whether to be amused or alarmed that the man was feeling 'nice' that day. Joe seemed to have given up and was now eyeing the bar with a certain kind of voracious hunger. Alex decided to get up and slip him a note.

* * *

_-J_

_Does dear ol' Chase need to have a heart attack?_

_-A_

* * *

Alex had then gone to the restroom just before the dessert course. He didn't see Joe's reaction if he'd gotten the note. Alex was sure he had since he'd been deliberately clumsy in placing it in the man's pocket. Alex went back to the table just as the dessert arrived. It was delicious strawberry cake. Alex felt something in his pocket halfway through.

* * *

_-A_

_DON'T EVEN_ _THINK_ _ABOUT IT._

_-J_

* * *

Alex had held back his laughter at the note, but it was a slim thing. Hey, he was just checking. For all he knew, Joe was being kidnapped or something. Alex sat back after he finished his meal. It was one of those things where you relied on the chef for portion control and he actually felt pretty good. Mandy was still talking with Chase. Chase's eyes flick to him. "You're awfully quiet."

Must not be rude to SCORPIA person. Must not be rude to SCORPIA person. It was hard because he was used to telling Nile to fuck right off. "You're awfully accepting of our dastardly deviant plot."

It was only a half-snark? Joe kicked him under the table. Joe was no fun. Chase turned an unnerving pair of gleeful brown eyes on him. "Nice alliteration, Dr. Seuss."

Alex vaguely wondered if this was how Jack felt when picking him up during or post prank. Probably more amused and less terrified. "I'm shocked you remember that much of English class. How's the literature analysis in work-land?"

Chase rolled his eyes. "Just because I'm Australian doesn't mean I'm an uncultured fu-I mean, person. Wow, xenophobic much?"

Alex was tempted to stick out his tongue, he really was. He hadn't quite meant to stick a reference to Australia's time as a penal colony in there, but trust the Australian to read too much into his sentence. Alex decided he did not give two shits. His shins were probably going to suffer. "Aw, you know us, British people. If it isn't the French, it's those darn Aussies."

Joe choked on his water and Chase laughed. Chase regained control of himself in seconds. "Sooo. I should pretend to be responsible for about fifteen seconds. How's school?"

Alex shrugged. "You'd have to ask them. I'm home-school."

Chase managed to sound interested at least. Actor points for him. "Really? Couldn't tell."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Not all of us are socially awkward dorky twerps, you know."

Chase didn't roll his eyes, but Alex did wonder if he was tempted. "Sure. Anyway, so what do you kids do for fun? B&E? Hacking conventions? Kid-"

Chase was cut off by Joe's elbow in his kidney. "Ow."

Joe rolled his eyes. "You deserve it. You might cause these kids irreparable psychological harm."

Chase grins. "Bullshit. Besides, they're already protesting the government so they probably won't turn out too bad."

Joe shook his head. "Chase, you and I are going to have a long, long talk about not corrupting the youth after this."

Chase pouted. "But Joe-"

Joe cut him off with a steely glare. "Only one man could finish that sentence around me and you aren't him."

Chase looked defensive. "I keep telling you we didn't do it. We wanted him alive."

Joe glared at him. "The worst part is, I almost believe you sometimes."

They looked at each other before completely switching topics. "So, how's that weather?"

Alex had a feeling this was going to be the longest dessert course he'd ever sat through.

* * *

After they finally got out of there, Alex was exhausted. He was pretty sure Chase liked the sound of his own voice quite a bit. Or he really was that bored. Alex had trouble imagining running SCORPIA being boring, but he couldn't exactly judge. Then again, Nile seemed to have enough free time to be able to stalk him semi-regularly. Alex could feel the headache beginning to come on. "So, you ran away from home."

Alex glared at his friend. Adrian was not what you'd call subtle. "Running away is a strong word. Taking an unexpected and solo vacation with my dog is more how I'd class it, really."

Mandy sighed. Adrian's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "We are going back to Mandy's house and then we are going to talk about this. In excruciating detail."

Alex shrugged. They could talk all they wanted. He wasn't sorry. Taking that nice vacation in the Alps was worth it. So was saving Aunt Crazy, even if she was crazy. Switzerland wasn't that far away, you know. It was only a train ride for a few hours. He really felt like people were definitely overreacting to this. I mean, sure, he was ten. Alex had been able to pretty much look after himself at his original five-year-old point. Jack was nice to have. He would miss her and be extremely lonely without here, but he would have lived. The car ride was both the longest and the shortest he'd ever been on. Mandy started first. "So, you ran away three times."

Alex protested. "It was really more like two."

Mandy rolled her eyes. "Alright, Tom, let's hear your side of the story."

Tom took a deep breath. "So, Ian and him were arguing one day. I figured it out 'cause Alex gets pretty grumpy when that happens. And then, one day, we hear he just up and left for the German Alps. I mean he barely left a note. There was the time he went to Switzerland without a note. Then, there was the time he went to Japan to see his Aunt in the hospital without permission and didn't return any calls."

Alex shrugged. "They were all for valid reasons."

Tom rolled his eyes. The Nile wasn't only a river in Africa. "Riiiiight. So, why _did_ you go on your unexpected extreme snow survival trip?"

Alex grinned. "I was tired of dealing with people. Snowy mountains don't have very many humans. Problem solved."

Mandy let out a long sigh. "Alright. The trip to Switzerland?"

Alex huffed. "I honestly forgot to leave a note, really guys."

Mandy was rolling her eyes into her head so far they might pop out. "And the time you visited your poor, sick aunt?"

Alex shrugged. "Just because Ian doesn't like her doesn't mean I have to follow suit and shun her. What if she died? She deserves more than to die alone and shunned. I conned a family friend into thinking I had permission and had him take me to Tokyo. He left after he figured out he was legally liable for kidnapping. I was only really without adult supervision for like, three hours. It was fine. I didn't die. I didn't get hit by a car. I wasn't kidnapped by sex traffickers. Really, people? Get a grip. I don't understand what the big deal is."

Adrian was struggling to maintain a semi-calm facade. He really didn't see it, did he? Even he wasn't that self-reliant. He was nineteen. Adrian cursed Ian Rider to a horrid fiery death in his mind. Adrian was well-aware lashing out at the man would close Alex off emotionally from them. Mandy was trying to convince Alex to see what was really going on. Adrian was almost certain he wouldn't get the point. He sat back and watched. Some days, he was afraid for the others. This was one of them.

* * *

Joe immediately got on his case the minute the kids left the restaurant. "You _cannot_ do that."

Chase widened his brown eyes in a look he had used to his full advantage in both careers. "Do what?"

Joe glared at him. "Give kids advice in their illegal endeavors."

Chase smirked. "And why not?"

Joe was starting to get mad. Chase would admit that some level of sadism was coming into play here. "It's not decent."

Chase grinned. "Well, Joe, I think I am long past the point where I have to listen to anyone telling me what to do. Long, long past. I don't have to abide by agency standards. I don't have to play by your rules, except when you hire us. You, in short, have no right to tell me when and where to go and what to do. I no longer play by anyone's subjective morality. And I, _certainly_ , decide who and what is worth my time. And If I decide that I'm going to mentor twelve-year-olds on graffiti formulas, then I can damn well do it."

Joe was just staring at him. Maybe he had gone a bit too far. Chase had been way past done with people's shit when he'd gone into business for himself. He had _earned_ the right to give Joe Byrne and his ilk a polite fuck you. Plus, it was always good to remind people that they weren't the boss of you. Chase enjoyed being his own boss, thank you very much. "I would think you had better things to do than that. If you're bored, I can think of a few things worth your time."

Chase shrugged. "That may be, Joe, but I can turn you down. Besides, I hadn't even gotten to the interesting petty crime hobbies before I was ever-so-rudely interrupted."

Joe snorted. "I thought you were way above small crime."

Chase let out a laugh so loud it drew the attention of some of the other patrons across the room. "Joe, we are a business. No job too large or too small. Besides, twenty bucks the government has to shell out is twenty bucks the government has to shell out."

Joe sighed and felt for his wallet for his half of the check. "Did you fucking pickpocket me?"

Chase shrugged. "Maybe. Don't worry, I'll give it back to you after I pay the bill."

Joe just glared at him across the room. Joe was not going to risk punching Chase in his way-too-perfect-teeth. "You're a piece of shit, Chase."

Chase barely held back his unmitigated glee. "I believe that is a given under the whole murdering terrorist label, Joe. Are you sure you made your position on merit?"

Chase knew Joe was about to snap and break his nose, _again_ , and hastily signed the check, dumped the wallet, and ditched the dining establishment. He heard Joe mutter under his breath. "I don't know why I didn't just shoot that little fucking shit when I had the chance," as his front hit the doors.

It was a good day. Poor, poor Joe. He'd have to cancel those credit cards just in case. The paperwork would be a _nightmare_.


	53. Fresh Hell

Alex got back to his house at an almost decent time. He looked Ian dead in the eyes the minute Tom went to the table for a second breakfast. "We need to talk."

Ian paused in getting off his jacket. "Uh, sure. Now or later?"

Alex sighed. "After breakfast."

To his uncle's credit, the man was watching him with a very concerned gaze through the entire meal. Alex knew Ian tended to get anxious when he asked for help because it tended to be on major, stressful things. Alex closed the door behind him. "I saw Joe again, yesterday. He was eating at the same restaurant as us."

Ian was instantly alert. "And?"

Alex sighed. "He was eating with _Brendan_ fucking _Chase_."

Ian sighed. "Are you accusing him?"

Alex huffed. "No. I just a little UPSET that I saw someone dining with the guy who _murdered_ my parents, instead of, you know, catching them."

Ian gave him a warning look. Alex hadn't realized he'd stood. Ian's reply was in the tone of ice. "Do you think I like it any better, Alex? Watching John's murderers go free. Watching my bosses give them a free pass. Meanwhile, it's just two of us who seem to suffer. I want them to _burn in hell_ and _burn_ on the way there."

Ian had taken on and icily controlled manic rage. The man regained control of himself in seconds. "Why don't we pull it off, then? Just the two of us. Crawley doesn't have to know."

Ian sighed. "Too late. I was already warned off by Blunt. They have people watching the house and Chase."

Alex felt a dangerous, reckless idea coming on. "Well, we don't have to kill him, right now. We could just mentally torture him a bit."

Ian huffed. "I've been banned from interacting with him."

Alex smirked. "I have sleep gas and flash grenades."

Ian looked like he was in physical pain. "You're too young."

Alex gave him a look. "I'm not too young to die if he decides to send assassins to kill me tomorrow."

Ian took a deep breath. "Alright, you can come, but you can't tell Patrick. He'll see this as an open invitation to take custody of you and then have you go on Aunt Crazy's jobs."

Alex shrugged. "Deal. Now, I've got a plan. And a brick to toss through his window."

Ian sighed. "What does this brick say?"

Alex grinned. Only people from the island would appreciate the brick in its' full glory. "Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard."

Ian looked at the brick. "This is the dumbest thing we have ever done."

Alex grinned. "But also the funniest."

Ian turned the brick in his hand and hefted it a bit. "Now, what was that plan of yours?"

Alex took the brick back. This was going to be a bit of a long talk.

* * *

Alex and Ian Rider were working as a team tonight. Alex gave Ian a half sort of grin as they waited for everybody else to go upstairs. Crawley had just eyed the two of them over a stack of papers and then had seemed to decide that he really didn't want to know. Ian had just given him a reassuring grin. Alex felt the anticipation thrum through him. This was pretty great. Ian has come up with the idea of putting sleeping gas through the ventilation of the car. That way they would just think they fell asleep on duty. Ian also knew the agency car designs way better than Alex. Alex was going to be the distraction. He knew he needed to do something eye-catching, but not bad enough that anyone would get out of the car. It was time to start his descent into deviancy. Officially. Alex hoped Ian wouldn't miss his lawn too much. Of course, Ian could probably get his grass replaced the next day. The gasoline can was surprisingly heavy. The liquid seeped out onto the wet ground. It was lucky that it had rained heavily recently. It lowered the risk of the fire actually spreading. Alex didn't actually want to burn down the house or the rest of the neighborhood. He decided not to burn any specific symbol into the lawn. The matches he always kept on him in case he couldn't use his lighter came. Alex moved away from the gasoline. He didn't want singed arms. Plus, he didn't want his eyebrows burned off his face. Alex opened the matchbook and pulled the first match out. He drove the match across the rough surface. A spark jumped off the match and the stick lit with a flame. Alex threw it straight into the center of the lawn. The flames instantly jumped to life, almost a foot high. Alex saw a shadow from the corner of his eye. The shocked faces of two men in the car were illuminated by the flames. The smoke felt sticky to breathe in and the gasoline reeked in the air. Alex started the timer on his watch. The flames should last no more than nine minutes. Long enough for the sleep gas to work. If the flames did last longer, he would put them out himself. They had fire extinguishers in the house. Alex sat next to the fire. The warmth washed over him. It was actually kind of pretty. The orange flames were only a few shades off from Jack's hair. Alex felt ill as he remembered the incident with Razim. The cold rage washed over. Not again. Never again. Ian gave him the signal a few seconds later.

* * *

Ian Rider wondered if it was a bad sign that he didn't feel guilty about gassing his fellow agents with sleeping gas made by his nephew. There was a not completely unsubstantial probability that they might either asphyxiate them or they could die from an allergic reaction. This was why he insisted on carrying out this part of the plan. What was Blunt going to do? Fire him? Hardy, har, har. Send assassins? Ian could easily take up to mid-level Scorpia assassins without too much personal injury. Plus, Ian wasn't exactly safe to piss off. Well, he'd call an ambulance if something looked wrong when they got back. Ian glanced at Alex. Alex looked...bad. Ian wasn't sure if doing this was the right thing, but this was Alex's idea. Alex silently went to his side at his signal. "You okay?"

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, fine.

Ian shrugged. Good enough for now. Ian felt Alex leaning against him. He ruffled Alex's hair. They both headed down the street. Ian handed Alex some gloves. "Still remember how to steal a car?"

Alex gave him a dry look. "How could I ever forget?"

Ian glanced around the road. "That one, do you think?"

Alex glanced at his uncle. "Really, the Rolls Royce?"

Ian shrugged. "If you are going to steal a car, you may as well go all out."

Alex snorted internally. Ian and his cars. They popped the hood together. Ian shone a light into the engine cavity. Alex got to work. This might actually be fun. Sort of. Lobbing bricks at Chase was probably not the safest of hobbies. Alex would totally point the finger at Ian if Yassen asked. Ian cheerfully started the car. "Do you have a car problem?"

Ian's gleeful look was a little alarming. "Wanna see if we can break the record for max speed on one of these puppies?"

Alex felt his eyes widen. "I'm never letting you get a racing car."

Ian laughed. "Don't worry, I'm already banned. But Smithers can make them go faster than the ones on the standard market anyway."

Alex wondered if Smithers knew what Ian got up to. Then again, Smithers gave him the bike. Ian predictably gunned the engine the minute they got out of a residential area.

* * *

Alex was thrumming with anticipation. He had a flash-bang ready. Ian was giving him looks. "Exactly how many of those do you normally carry with you?"

Alex let it plop back into his backpack. "Do I have to answer that honestly?"

Ian gave him the side-eye. Alex batted his eyelids and gave Ian a wide-eyed look. "It depends."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Enough to take down the whole block then."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Whatever gave you that idea?"

Ian just gave him a look of exasperation. "Brat, I _will_ install an x-ray in the doorway."

Alex smirked. "No, you won't."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "One, x-rays kill. Two, incriminating evidence works on you and Crawls, too."

Ian sighed. "Alex, how am I supposed to parent you if you outmaneuver me at every turn?"

Alex gave Ian a look. "Then don't maneuver in the first place. Appeal to reason instead."

Ian sat back as they pulled into the parking lot. "We'll continue this discussion when we get back."

Alex pulled on his hood. Their clothes were loose enough to conceal their actual builds but tight enough not to get caught on random objects. They would be burned either way after tonight. Too much risk of evidence for threads. Alex knew the car would be burned out with thermite that he had personally made. Ian lit their first torch. The guards didn't really see it coming. The torches were meant to look like normal ones used by law enforcement. Ian flung it in their general direction. It landed nowhere near them. "Hey-"

Whatever they were going to say next was cut off by Ian launching a grenade at them. Alex had already dropped and covered his ears. The explosions still hurt his ears, but he imagined it wasn't as bad as what the guards were experiencing at the epicenter of the explosion. Alex had closed his eyes, but not soon enough to stop him from seeing the white-hot blast halo connect with their chests. Alex was up a second later. He tried not to look at the charred chests of the now-unconscious men. Scorpia goons, he reminded himself. It still didn't make him feel that much better. They were just in the way. The hotel was meant to be inconspicuous, which meant the protections were far lighter than they would have been otherwise. Or maybe Chase thought he was invincible. Alex gave Ian the brick. "Clean of fingerprints?"

Ian grinned and answered back. "Sparkly."

Ian then launched it through the fifty-year-old glass. Ian chucked a torch through the hole for good measure. Then, he grabbed Alex's hand in a grip that was just a little too tight and went into a dead run. They both made it and pulled out just in time for the back-up to arrive. Alex heard the yells as they drove down the street at a normal pace. Nobody would suspect a car that was not peeling out of there. Ian turned onto the third street away. They were going to torch the car and dump it in a pre-determined field.

* * *

Brendan Chase felt himself jump awake at the sound of an explosion. He was up and dressed in minutes. He was glad that he had kept away from windows when he saw the glass shatter. Chase made the mental note that all of his accommodations would have bulletproof or missile-proof glass from now on, no matter how safe MI6 claimed he would be. The flare came through his windows seconds later and set the carpet on fire. Chase sighed and grabbed the extinguisher. It was lucky that he chose the room where the extinguisher was in a weird spot that allowed him to keep low to the ground. Not. He really should have insisted on his own accommodations. This was second-rate at best and his sleep was officially down the toilet as it was. Lovely. At least the extinguisher worked. MI6 was sooo paying his hotel damages. His security team picked that time to show up. That was it, Nile was getting called back from vacation. And Nile's combat team. "Your response time was shit. What's the status?"

The team leader (Chase didn't bother remembering their names) stepped forward. "Two casualties and no sign of the perpetrators."

Chase felt his temper beginning to rise. "Are you telling me they got away?"

The man paled. "Yes, sir."

Chase sighed. "Give me your phone."

The man forked it over. Chase dialed the number. Nile picked up on the first ring. He loved competent people. "Sir?"

Chase felt a scowl wanting to appear on his face. It was close, but his face stayed blank. "Nile. Meet me in Venice with your team in the morning. Early."

The reply was short. "Yes, sir."

Nile's first new assignment was going to be using these twerps as target practice. He turned to the team. "All of you get out of my sight."

This was going to be a long night.

* * *

Ian and Alex proceeded to set the car on fire. It burned so hotly the metal was molten. The white-hot metal sizzled as it hit the dirt. The car now looked deformed, like a chocolate elf that had been left in the sun too long. The metal oozed into a small river and the inside of the car was thoroughly charred. Ian took his hand. "Time to go home."

Alex let it be. They walked to the train station. It was the last train to leave. Ian sat next to him on the train. Alex made a mental note to tell Maddox to delete the footage. They got off at the appropriate station. They had been the only ones in their cabin. Ian unlocked the door for him. Alex had already pulled out his key. Ian had just given him a look. Ian let him move ahead. "Where are you going?"

Ian shrugged. "Knockout gas, remember?"

Alex stepped inside but waited in the doorway. Ian was back in a few seconds later. The door was dead-bolted. "Alright, 'm off to bed."

Ian grabbed his shoulder. "No, you're not."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "This is important."

He made a move to start getting undressed. "Okay."

Ian grabbed his arm. "I wanted to talk, Alex."

Ian released his arm. "Alright then."

They went up to the office. "Are you okay?"

Alex shrugged. "Fine. A bit tired, but fine."

Ian just looked at him funny. "Are you trying to convince me or yourself?"

Alex gave Ian the evil eye. "I'm fine."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Right. Break into Belinda's house tomorrow morning."

Alex grinned. "Well, now that my illustrious guardian has told me to, I definitely will."

Ian whacked him across the head. "Child abuse."

Ian smirked. "No, but taking you on this definitely was."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You looked a bit off at the fire."

Alex gave Ian a slightly manic grin. "Brought back all the bad memories of burning myself doing stupid shit."

Ian grinned. "We can burn down a few buildings for fun."

Alex snorted. "I feel like burning down the bank would definitely put a screw in your job prospects."

Ian shrugged. "I mean, I've death-threated my boss, so probably not."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Why don't you spend your time more productively? Like, maybe start transferring your shit out of the bank in case you get double-crossed by your bosses."

Ian looked at him. "You know, I have other accounts and there is family stuff."

Alex sighed. "Ian everybody in the family has private accounts."

Ian's eyes snapped to him. "Everybody?"

Alex felt his lips twitch. "Yes, everybody."

Ian stroked his hair. "Congrats, don't do anything too illegal. Let me know if you have questions or something."

Alex felt impatient. "Can I ditch my clothes and go to sleep now?"

Ian laughed. "Sure."

* * *

Brendan Chase had decided to send the "Bank" a very nasty message via phone. Nasty grams were always fun. Hey, even he couldn't find and murder enough agents on this short notice. He was pretty sure they weren't behind the attack, but the brick was eating at him. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ The fuck?! Why not just chuck a bomb through the window? He was carrying the brick. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ Nile and his combat team were strong, almost stronger than anyone. He was going to meet Nile in Venice. What was this supposed to accomplish? Most threats were accompanied by some sort of demand. That was how it usually worked. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ He was going to get a few extra ones and Nile's team was going in for more training. This was not going to happen again. He was still safe. Well, safe enough. Why not just kill him? Why poke the angry bear without finishing the deed and shooting it? _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ It was more assassin than spy. It was probably a chapter in one of their assassin textbooks. That was the thing, though. Scorpia didn't really have disgruntled assassins. People who failed got murdered and people going into the school were, at the very least, indifferent towards killing. Scorpia did have rivals, though. Chase had thought they were thoroughly stomped out, to be honest. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ It was something Odair might do. Odair was dead, though. Everybody knew that. They may not have found the body, but there had been enough blood at the top of the cliff that he was dead even if he hadn't fallen/jumped off. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ Pierre? Pierre might know who did this, but it wasn't his style. Pierre would have done something more extravagant (and probably involving dead animals). Plus, Chase had followed all the rules. He hadn't tried to track the man. There were no threats yet. The plane landed almost seamlessly. Chase had already given the order for this security team to be taken out. Incompetence was not something tolerated by Scorpia. _Your security is only as strong as your weakest bodyguard._ Well, he could always ask Pierre, right? He just wouldn't send Nile this time. The man had gotten himself banned from assignments in England for the moment.

* * *

Alex had actually managed to text Maddox before MI6 came sniffing at the street cameras. Maddox had deleted the footage implicating him and Ian. The computer had informed him that as far as it could tell, nobody had touched the footage. Alex was relieved. He wouldn't put it past SCORPIA to try to outpace MI6 to the culprit. It was just up their ally. Crawley was glaring at them the second the news came on with the fact that a hotel had been grenaded and a brick had been thrown through the window of an "upstanding foreign visitor". Upstanding his ass. The only thing Brendan Chase was upstanding in was crime. Jack just shook her head. "Some people."

Ian just gave Alex the "you better keep quiet" look. Alex gave him the "of fucking course" look. Alex decided it was time to distract Crawley and Jack. "Sooo, did any of you know that James is getting stuck in an arranged marriage?"

Jack's eyes flashed. "What?! That's outrageous. We're in the modern era, damn it."

Alex was internally gleeful but put on his best upset face. It must have worked because Jack was looking at him expectantly. "Oh, I agree entirely, but Jamie doesn't want to be disowned, so we're going to have to pin it on the girl."

Crawley looked thoughtful. "Drugs and sex?"

It was usually pretty standard. Plus, the more public the scandal, the less likely your contract was going to survive. Ian looked pensive. "Do we have a file on her?"

Crawley just gave Ian a look. "Is her last name Spencer? Yes."

Ian shrugged. "I was just checking."

Ian gave Crawley a significant look. "Time for nepotism?"

Crawley sighed. In for a penny, in for a pound. "Time for nepotism."

* * *

Yassen Gregorovitch knew which family to blame when the news hit, but not which member of it. Only Alex or Ian Rider would dare throw a brick through the window of an executive board member. Only Alex or Ian Rider would leave the job unfinished and not follow the brick with a bomb of some sort. Damn it. The entire board was in a sort of uproar. It was more puzzlement than anything else. But it also meant that all the high-ranking operatives had to undergo a psychological assessment. Because they had to rule out an inside job. Yassen would be less pissy about this if he wasn't one of the people who were "strongly recommended" an "optional" session. Optional his ass. He knew mandatory when he saw it thank you very much. Oh look, his session was starting now. Yassen knew he wasn't going to get away with strangling this one. It was difficult to fight the urge though. "Come in, sit down." Yassen followed the directions. The doctor seemed to be trying to pass for amiable. He was not about to be too cooperative with this shit show. The psychologist was giving him an expectant look. Yassen decided to sit there and wait. He was a sniper. He could wait for days, if necessary. The psychologist continued staring at him for a good solid few minutes. As far as Yassen was concerned, the psychologist could stare at him for the whole damn two hours. "You have been with SCORPIA for nearly two decades, correct?"

Yassen wondered why the man was asking him something obviously in his file. "Yes."

The psychologist let out a sigh. "Are you satisfied with your life?"

Yassen raised an eyebrow. "Fairly."

The psychologist paused. "Fairly?"

Yassen shrugged. "There are a few things I want, but I am working towards getting them. Otherwise, I cannot complain."

The psychologist tapped his clipboard. "Okay then."

They lapsed into silence. "Is there anything SCORPIA can help you with?"

Yassen gave the man a very, very dry look. "Unfortunately not. This requires...outside resources."

The psychologist paused. "A male apprentice?"

Yassen got up. "You overstep your bounds."

The man gulped and backed away. "Sorry."

Cossack glared at him. "Not sorry enough. The good doctor put you up to that one, I suppose."

The man coughed. "Er, well, you see."

Yassen moved toward the door. "Yes, I do. I believe this concludes our session. Have a nice day."

He was tempted to slam the door on the way out but refrained.

* * *

The psychologist, who was actually called Dr. Baker, sighed. "Well, it could have gone worse."

The wall predictably had no answer. He wondered why they had chosen him for this particular task. In general, Baker was not connected with the island or with the higher ranking operatives in general. But then _they_ had offered him this position and he had been self-destructive enough to accept. Baker wondered if this wasn't a sign that he was going insane. Who voluntarily signed up to assess violent sociopaths? Apparently him. It wasn't that he found it interesting in a clinical sense either, but it certainly paid better than being a military psychologist. And, shockingly, had a lower probability of getting him strangled. It was strange, really. The fact that the military had less screening than a bunch of mercenaries run by a bunch of crime bosses, but this was the world he lived in. Then again, he had only really joined the military to pay for college anyway. Baker had been genuinely horrified at the things he witnessed from the military. If it wasn't ignoring hazing deaths or rape, it was ignoring PTSD from the battlefield. In the end, he had left the growing frustration at his lack of ability to change things. The fact that he was consistently overruled at every critical turn and then blamed for "not seeing it coming". Oh, he'd seen it coming. He'd even tried to warn people. But no, the general always knew best. At least here, they took his opinion seriously. Frankly, that was all he'd ever wanted. He'd gotten his doctorate, for Christ's sake.

* * *

Brendan Chase was not in the best of moods. The street camera evidence had been conveniently erased before either he or MI6 could view it. Frankly, the whole thing reeked, but they had no proof MI6 or one of her agents was behind it, so they couldn't really openly do anything. Then again, he would be one of the first to admit that SCORPIA excelled in petty little details. If the psychological assessment made their second-in-commands upset with MI6 and created friction in future cooperation, it wasn't his problem, now was it? He heard Yassen was especially pissy about the whole thing. Then again, the man had almost impressed Dr. Steiner with his ability to glare silently through an entire two-hour session, so Brendan was not surprised. Chase was privately hoping Yassen caught a bout of extreme pettiness and saved them the trouble of hunting down the culprit. Three had said it was probably unlikely, but a man could hope, right? Anyway, Nile had been called back from vacation, along with his combat squad. The man had made short work of that defunct security team and was standing in the corner, waiting for his instructions. "Are we hunting down the culprit yet?"

Chase did love the man's enthusiasm for hunting down and violently murdering people. "Well, no. They got to the camera before we did."

Nile looked at him. The man seemed to be trying to do some sort of calculation in his head. "That seems kind of sketchy."

Chase sighed. "Yes, that's why we did the mass psych evals. Look, Nile. The person is either in England or far, far away from England at this point so it doesn't really matter."

Nile gave him a look. "Why?"

Chase drummed his fingers on the desk. "Because. There were no demands to be made. Hence, we have nothing but this brick linking us back to the original attackers."

Nile frowned. "What about that melted car they found in a field somewhere?"

Chase paused. "What melted car?"

Nile turned on the television. Sure enough. There was a melted car on the screen. "Interesting. They got away clean."

Nile shrugged. "Maybe they burned it just in case like we do."

Chase gave him a look. "True, but we don't have disgruntled employees."

Nile glanced at the screen. "Competitors?"

Brendan shrugged. "Awful long time to hold a grudge."

Nile looked at him. "Not really, especially if they were like me except, you know, a different organization."

Chase paused mid-drum. "Fair enough. We'll add it to the list of possibilities."

Chase made a mental note. "Your team has more explosives drills in half an hour. I suggest you join them."

Nile left. Chase watched as he closed the door. They had already scratched him off the list of possible attackers.

* * *

Yassen was glad to be back in the relative (fake) privacy of his room. It was quiet at least. And, while people could wonder who he was texting, they would not actively ask him about it. SCORPIA tried not to let her operatives know directly that they were being surveilled. Cossack had many things to say about that, but he knew voicing those thoughts would be decidedly impolitic.

* * *

_-A_

_Which of you two morons decided that the little jaunt with a brick was a good idea?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex scowled at his phone. Sure, it wasn't the best idea ever, but neither he nor Ian was dumb. Besides, he had some ceremonial protesting to do.

* * *

_-C_

_Hey, it was totally not me. Even I'm not that dumb._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen scowled at his phone. Oh, goody. It was the senior reckless moron in the family he should really care less about, not the junior one. Well, at least some of his message had sunk in.

* * *

_-A_

_Oh, joy. It was your derelict guardian, then. Good to know._

_-C_

* * *

Alex gave his phone the evil eye. Even a twelve-mentally-eighteen him would admit Ian wasn't the best choice of parent figures. That did not mean Yassen got to say that, though.

* * *

_-C_

_What? How do you know it was either of us? It could have been someone else. And Ian is a perfectly good guardian, what are you talking about?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen looked at his phone. Perfectly good guardian, his ass. Ian Rider would be his nomination for the least responsible guardian ever if there were such an award in existence. Cossack barely resisted the urge to sigh.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes, like all the wonderful times he took you to war zones, shot mercenaries in front of you, and then acted like it was all okay. Or maybe the times you decided to leave your home for no apparent reason, I'm sure your relationship is perfectly fine. Or maybe the fact that he forgot your birthday twice slipped your mind. Nile and I remembered._

_-C_

* * *

Alex looked at his phone. Yassen was an ass. But he was one with logic on his side. Damn it, why did Yassen have to point these things out.

* * *

_-C_

_Fuck you._

_-A_

* * *

It was not the most mature of responses, but Cossack knew it was kind of a low blow. He hoped he hadn't pushed Alex too far.

* * *

_-A_

_Just think about it. And, you know, maybe decide what you want in a guardian. There seems to be plenty of volunteers._

_-C_

* * *

Alex glared at his phone. Damn you, Yassen, damn you. Fenrir was giving him a sort of glazed look. Alex had long ago stopped trying to keep the fluffy animal off his bed. Fenrir just looked so cute like that, even at his fully-grown pony size. Alex put his phone away. "What do you think, fluff? Get a pet snake?" Fenrir huffed at him. "I think Mandy would like a pet snake."

Tom chose that moment to bust in. "Yeah, but her mom would kill you."

Alex gave his friend a playful look. "Oh, but Tom, think of the possibilities."

Tom grinned. "You mean the possibility of Jack killing you if you tried to keep a snake here. Definitely one hundred percent, man."

Alex paused for a second. "James loves me, right?"

Tom looked at him. "Alex."

Alex grinned. "But, To-om. We could have a pet snake. Plus, I don't think his aunt would mind."

Tom rolled his eyes. "You're a corrupting influence that belongs away from our school."

Alex smirked. "Really, Tom? I'm the corruptive influence? Have you met our principal?"

Tom snorted. "No, because he stays in his shiny, marble-and-hardwood office all day."

Alex rolled his eyes. "It's fake."

Tom looked at him. "Of course you know that."

Alex huffed. "Oh, come on. It isn't that hard to tell the difference. His desk is obviously painted because wood-grain doesn't work like that in real life and the marble is fake because it failed my scratch test."

Tom looked at him. "When were you in that office long enough to do a scratch test?"

Alex glanced away. "I was curious and broke into the school after my second day. It was killing me not to know Tom, killing me."

Tom snorted. "Sure, Alex, because the desks' material is what troubles most students in their daily life."

Alex grinned. "But I know James will cave like wet cardboard, Tom."

Tom sighed. "Fine, just don't do anything _too_ illegal to acquire the snake."

Alex gave Tom an innocent look. "Since when have I done anything illegal?"

Tom gave him a look. "Do you want the list in chronological or alphabetical order?"

Alex gave Tom a look of poorly disguised mirth. "You wound me."

Tom promptly threw the pillow of Alex's desk chair at him. Alex burst out laughing. Tom just shook his head. "I'll go to prison for you, Al, but I'll punch you in the face afterward."

Alex shrugged. "I can live with that."

Suddenly, their moment was broken. "Boys, dinner!"

Alex glanced at Tom. "Race you down!"

Tom's swearing followed him down.

* * *

Ian was giving them both amused looks when they got to the table. "How was the race?"

Alex shrugged. "I think it went well."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Just don't run down the stairs too often, my poor stressed heart occasionally needs a break."

Jack muttered under her breath. "Yeah, from work and suits."

Alex coughed loudly. "Sure, Ian."

Crawley plopped a file on the table. "Soo, this is kind of illegal, but here is what the Bank has on the lady's family."

Alex reached for the file. A glance from Jack stilled him. "After you eat."

Alex pouted. "Fine."

Ian gave him an amused look. "Ready to sink somebody that fast, huh?"

Alex gave him a look. "How would you feel if this was Crawley?"

Ian looked murderous for a second. "Okay, fair."

Alex inwardly smirked. Crawley just looked faintly alarmed. "Ian."

Ian gave the man an innocent look Alex recognized from his own face. "What?"

Crawley just looked at him. "Tell me you wouldn't."

Ian gave him a look. "No. You said not to ever lie to you."

Crawley kept looking at Ian. "Ian."

Ian raised an eyebrow. "John."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Good luck, Crawley. You'll need it. You should see some of the shit he pulled on Alex's behalf."

Ian gave her a playful look. "Worth every second of risked jail time, and I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about Ms. Starbright."

Jack rolled her eyes. "Sure he doesn't. And I'm a purple elephant."

Alex had downed his meal in just about record time. He wasn't really used to people caring if he actually ate anymore. It was odd. Edward had never really pressed too hard and Jack had been dead. Jack just shook her head. "There is no way I'll convince you not to do this, is there?"

Alex gave her a mischievous grin. "Of course not."

Jack sighed. "Get started then, and may heaven help us all."

Alex opened the file.

* * *

Tulip Jones was unsure of her path for the first time in a while. It was interesting how things turned out. She'd never imagined she would join a conspiracy related to murdering her long-time mentor and friend, but it honestly looked like it was shaping up that way. She was going to have to choose between Ian Rider and Alan Blunt. Tulip wasn't sure she was really going to survive the choice. She had thought all of her agonizing choices were done when she had lost her children in favor of MI6 and lost her husband to secrecy and lies. And when John died. She had dropped the investigation. It had hurt more than it should have to sign those papers. Tulip sighed. Ian or Alan? Her mentor or her brother-in-arms? Tulip knew what the correct response according to the agency was. She also knew what she wanted. Alan, well, he had changed. Ian hadn't at all. Still the same man, year after year, mission after mission. Tulip had wondered at the stability of his personality. Sure, maybe he was worse for the wear after certain ones, but he was still the same fiery individual she'd met that day in the job interview. The panther-like speed and reflexes. The dark, haunting brown eyes that had frozen a few killers in their tracks as he sliced through their throats. Tulip remembered when they worked together and he'd tried to get her into "Irish Hot Chocolate". She remembered John and Helen and her children and her husband. The man who now hated her with a burning passion. He had told her to her face that he despised her and fully blamed her for the deaths of her children. Then there was Alan, the man who had mentored her. The man who had promoted her, despite the blatant sexism in the field. Alan had believed in her. Maybe he had even been the first. Alan had been charming back in the day. He had almost managed to seem caring, but it had faded over the years. The warmth had turned cold and the grey had crept into the man. Tulip could still see Helen in her mind's' eye. The warm blue eyes and the flash of sun on her hair. _Tulip._ Tulip was long used to hearing the voices of the dead in her memory. _Protect my son._ Tulip shuddered under the force of the near full-on flashback. Then, Helen was gone, taking any warmth the office may have had with her. Jones felt her resolve thicken. She had failed her own children. The least she could do was protect Helen's. _Sorry, Alan. A mother's love trumps all._

* * *

Alex Rider had a plan. It was probably a bad idea, but it would get James out of his engagement, which was all Alex really cared about in the scope of his plan. It would probably take years to execute in a way that wouldn't implicate him, but it would probably work. Ian would actually be doing the bulk of the work. The man wouldn't have it any other way. Alex had been unable to convince the man that he could do it on his own. Ian had also threatened to ground him (again) until he told Ian where the dealers hung out. Really, they weren't that dangerous. Ian had a different opinion. Alex had looked to Tom for support, but his friend had sided with Ian. In retrospect, Alex was pretty glad not to have to do the legwork himself - drug dens were not all that fun unless you were using - but it was the principle of the thing. Alex preferred to work alone unless he absolutely had to take a partner. Sadly, this time he had about five. Even if they were family he otherwise liked. If you didn't have partners, nobody could veto any of your plans. Especially Ian. Ian was kind of annoying when Alex wanted to get real adult shit done. He has considered sneaking off and giving the lady a poison that would make her sterile, but Ian had given him a look and told him if he sneaked off behind their backs he'd get a tracker implanted. Alex had sighed. Well, he'd just console himself by antagonizing Brendan Chase some more. With his illegal bank account full of blood money. Alex figured his coping mechanisms were probably unhealthy. He was honestly tempted to just take a contract killing from the man just to piss Ian off. Alex wasn't quite that level of angry yet, though. Maybe if Ian forgot his birthday a third time. Or maybe if Chase offered him something that didn't involve murder. Hey, he was twelve. It was almost time for that teenage rebellion. Or maybe he'd track down Nile's phone number. Playing poke the murdering sociopath was pretty damn fun, come to think of it. Alex decided a visit to Maddox was in order. Fenrir would be very glad for another walk and even Ian could think it was that suspicious if he was bringing the dog. Ian knew that Alex would not voluntarily endanger his pet. Ian eyed him suspiciously as he walked toward the door. "You aren't leaving the country, are you?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Not today. I might go to Switzerland tomorrow, though."

Ian sighed. "At least you are telling me now."

Alex shrugged. "The train is perfectly safe, Ian."

Ian just shook his head. "Have fun, Alex."

* * *

Alex walked to the bunker by himself. It was nice. He was still used to having a lot more time on his own. Even if he told people he was studying, they still tended to barge in after a few hours. Fenrir sat down. "Maddox?"

The hologram appeared in front of him. "Yes?"

Alex was glad he had met the computer. "Why don't people leave me alone more often?"

The computer whirred. "You do tend to come up with your risky plans and find trouble."

Alex scowled. "I don't do that all the time, though."

Maddox gave him a raised eyebrow. "Often enough. Besides, most twelve-year-olds crave companionship. It is _you_ who is aberrant in this."

Alex sighed. "Don't I know it. How's the account looking?"

Maddox's tone was somewhat dry. "Congratulations, you can buy a decent house and perhaps a vacation home."

Alex shrugged. "It's a start."

Maddox just looked at him. Alex was starting to wonder if the computer had shorted. "You have another message from a certain Brendan Chase."

Alex smirked. "I know. Getting desperate, is he?"

Maddox's synthesized voice actually sighed at him. "I suppose it would do no good to tell you that this is a huge risk."

Alex shrugged. "Not really, Mads."

The computer retorted. "You are the mad one here, Mr. Rider."

Alex glanced at the hologram. "You can call me Alex, Mads. Mr. Rider is Ian to me."

The computer gave him a look. "Oh, contraire, Mr. Rider. You will have to get used to it eventually."

Alex grinned. "Nah, I'll be Alex forever."

Maddox probably would have shrugged if he could. "I have been manipulating factors to our favor."

Alex grinned. "Keep up the good work, Mads. Maybe one day I'll actually be able to quit."

Alex wasn't sure he still believed that. But if it kept his family safe, it was worth it in the end.


	54. Disintegration

Death (or Grim) - he was starting to get used to being called that - was in a bit of a squeeze. See, his siblings didn't really like him that much and the feeling was mutual. They were bugging him about Alex. Grim frankly preferred the child's company to his siblings. At least _Alex_ had some fire still left. You would think after being shot, stabbed, nearly fed to crocodiles, and set on fire the kid would learn, but no, Alex stood proud still. Grim personally admired the grit and the ability to provoke crazy rich dudes into fits of apoplectic rage. It was hilarious. His siblings were being annoying. It was fate this and fate that. And they were still whining about _he was fated to die that day; can't you give him a break_. Grim personally thought Alex would be bored shitless three days into any kind of real break and would find another crime boss to irritate, but that was just his opinion. The kid was making him twitchy. Grim had also disobeyed the laws he'd helped create. You see, he was no longer supposed to be sharing his essence with a mortal. Especially without any kind of cap. Primordials had been banished to the nether regions for a reason. Their powers created...unfair advantages for some mortals over others. Alex was far from the first in his family to ask him for (and be granted) favors, but this was the first time Grim had actually forgotten to cap the amount of his essence Alex could draw. Meh, oh well. Alex was stuck as a mostly plain-ass normal mortal until his second (third) life. Grim was counting strictly by the numbers Alex was resurrected for. The lives the child chose. Of course, Grim wasn't about to tell him he could actually choose. They could not bring back the dead, but Alex would get some…interesting combat abilities that would not be noticeable, mostly because all of his enemies would be dead afterward, but who was counting? Grim rubbed his hands together. He was really looking forward to when Lex-Lex got old enough for consistent (and awesome) stunts. It was great. The kid had used a snowmobile to ram a helicopter in the last life without his help. Plus, dear old Ian was doing a great job of being an absolutely atrocious parent. Honestly, you've shot how many men in front of your prepubescent nephew, again? Call child services! Don't even get him started on that stunt with the grenade and Brendan Chase. Well, it wasn't Grim's affair, but he was personally banking on Gregorovich getting custody. He was slippery and ruthless enough. Plus, the man had some great ideas for ditching Nile. The assassin's plan wasn't a bad one, even by his standards. Plus, he would make a better (or more stable) guardian, at least. Hmmm. Maddox. What a delightful twist. He knew giving Fenrir one of his hellhound's souls was a good move. What a great pet. Grim approved of this adoption. Then again, he wasn't exactly great parent material himself. Oh, well. Alex was mostly grown intellectually anyway.

* * *

Brendan Chase knew he was just a little too eager for the reply that Pierre would send. He wasn't exactly used to waiting anymore. Usually, Chase would just make a phone call and whomever he wanted to meet would have an appointment within twenty-four hours. He had sent the man a bit of a challenge. It was killing him to see whether or not Pierre would take him up on this. No, it was not the investigation. Chase trusted nobody but himself for that. He was currently attempting to do paperwork at the school. It was never as successful or efficient as doing it in his own home, but staying here was his best option for the moment for a variety of reasons. Three was an ally, they were both the only two in on the Pierre thing. Chase preferred to keep it that way. Kurst had an annoying habit of attempting to poach the more interesting recruits and he knew Yu was eyeing having an actual second-in-command or an actual assassin on hand in light of the still (unofficially) unexplained ASH incident. Chase personally suspected the all-too-conveniently placed Ian Rider in that last one, but the issue remained that the man didn't have the tactical abilities to pull that off. Neither did John Crawley. There would have had to have been a third present co-conspirator. The tactician. Chase would pay no small amount of money to have whoever had planned that little incident on-hand (or on his payroll at least). It was cleverly done, utterly ruthlessly planned, and an expert playing of both sides. He could admire that - Pierre. It was Pierre who had made the plan. Chase was certain, although he would probably never be able to prove it. He wondered how much Ian Rider had paid the man. For the plan. For his silence. It would be good to know the price. The man could have charged a not-insignificant amount. It wouldn't have required too much effort for the trained eye, with the right mind behind it. They'd ruled out Jones, Blunt, and ASIS in the incident. It fit. Three was at his door. Chase had learned to recognize the walk and sound of his knock. "Come in."

The _good doctor_ came in. "Pierre was behind Howell."

Three smirked. "It must have cost a fortune. I wonder what Ian Rider knows him as."

Chase shrugged. "We'll add it to the growing list of questions. Is there something you were here for?"

Three have him a significant look. "Do you have plans to exit my domain any time soon?"

Chase gave him a smirk of his own. "Oh, Doc. I will, eventually. But I need a new head of a combat squad and you cast a nice specter for anyone who might try anything."

Three was giving him a calculating look. "Very well. Do try to keep Nile under control. The student casualty rate should be kept to a minimum."

Chase sighed. "I'll give him another talk about getting over-enthusiastic with the sharp, pointed objects."

The doctor gave him a significant look. "Do please. We already have one out for medical care."

Chase groaned. He could feel the headache coming on. And the cramping from the paperwork. He would shove it off on Nile, but it might get destroyed and those records were _important_. The doctor took his leave. God damn it, Nile. Why, oh, why? What did this one do? Sneeze loudly? He was as bad as Three back in the early days.

* * *

Alex Rider was anticipating a nice, quiet week mostly to himself. That week was not happening so far. Ian was actually watching him closely, which was annoying after being free this long. He wanted to go to his nice, illegal bank account on his own, thanks. Yeah, Ian was watching him. It got weird to know that Ian was watching him as he carefully clipped the poison he'd saw for to grow in their yard. The flowers were beautiful. And fatal in doses as low as one for a fully-grown man. The rosary peas looked stunning this time of year. The plant had kind of exploded and Alex knew he would be getting a larger crop than expected. It was kind of nice to do something quiet and not involving bloodshed for a change. Well, no direct bloodshed. Storing up poison for you and your family's future use was not exactly the action of a pacifist. Tom was perched nearby, watching him garden. "Are you ever going to let me touch your precious flowers?"

Alex glanced up. "We'll start with the ones that can't kill you first."

Tom grinned. "And how many of those do you have?"

Alex shrugged. "Anything behind the poison ivy can kill you."

Tom looked, fascinated. "Really?"

Alex remembered when he'd had that same fascination with death. It had faded quickly after his missions. "Yep."

Alex snipped off a partially wilted leaf and made sure his plant was securely fashioned to its' stick. It had already been threatening to collapse under its' own weight. "So, what does that one do?"

Alex checked the flowers. They would be pollinated soon. "It grows rosary peas. As little as three can kill a grown man."

Tom slid down the tree. "Really? Cool!"

Alex gave him an amused look. "I've got a book if you want it, just don't tell Ian."

Tom looked at him. "If this is you trying to con me into more school work, then you're doing a great job."

Alex grinned. "Of course, I am. It's _me,_ Tom." His best friend just burst out laughing at that.

* * *

Tulip Jones had decided to assign Ian Rider office work for a while. She was fairly certain that he would eventually figure out what she had done, but by then, it would hopefully be too late. She wanted him here for back-up, just in case. Alex had given her the idea. Once upon a time, Julia Rothman had been on their side. Tulip remembered her vividly. The black widow, forever spinning its web. Until something had come and shot it. The long, long nights she had spent in the woman's company. Julia had eventually admitted to loving poison more than any of her husbands. Tulip hadn't exactly been shocked. Julia had then proceeded to give her a fancy Italian dagger. It was coated in a poison that she'd had custom made. _Just dip it in a drink or give the man a little nick. He'll die within the month and the poison doesn't become any less powerful. You'll know when it's expired because the blade will dissolve._ Tulip had opened the box the night before. She had never used the knife but had kept it. The blade was still there, as shiny and pointed as the day she had gotten it, nearly twenty years ago. Tulip wondered what Julia would say now. Planning to poison her boss and taking his position. It was the sort of thing she would approve of, Tulip felt a twisted sort of smile on her face. Of course, Julia would have the courage to straight-up plunge it into his back. She was relying on poison. The dagger felt cold in its sheath at her side. It was leather, and probably custom-made. It fit suspiciously well on her. The armor was no longer required for her to wear, so she left it in her closet. Alan would probably only suspect her in his last days of life. Or not at all. This was a kind of betrayal of the highest order. Alan knew she had turned down many, many offers. They were always there, too. Tulip knew it would be all too easy. She would never claim this kill, of course. The current government wouldn't accept that sort of thing. The bounties were there, but Tulip was not motivated by money. She vaguely wondered whether or not anyone besides Ian would realize what she had done. It was more SCORPIA than her usual style, but she was desperate. This wouldn't be the first time somebody had murdered their boss. It would probably not be the last. Then again, it wasn't exactly for the promotion this time. Tulip took a deep breath. Then, she went back to her usual morning routine. He wouldn't know it, but this was the last day Alan Blunt would be truly alive. He would slowly rot to the core, the way his morals had. There was no antidote. For either kind of rot, really.

* * *

Alex Rider had finally gotten his chance to go to Switzerland. Fenrir was on his leash. He was fully armed. This would be interesting. Alex stepped into the bank as usual. No sign of Nile. Then again, the man had finally landed himself on Tulip's radar, so Alex figured he wouldn't be in England for the next few years. It was SCORPIA policy after all. They took care of their operatives and tried not to send them into countries that had particular grudges against them. His shooting at Tulip had been a violation of their policies on several levels. So had Howell killing his parents. The board could do what it wanted, though. They would have to sign off on exceptions like that. Alex vividly remembered his last year of life. Edward had failed in his endeavor. It hadn't been the man's fault. It was just that Alex had been determined. He had trained in secret. Then, he'd struck out on his own. Edward had just accepted him wandering in and out of their lives without question. Alex knew the CIA would neatly cover up any problems with the school. There were very few adults that could actually do anything about making him do anything. Alex had liked working by himself on missions he decided on. The first thing he had done was go back to his home in England. He'd found the files Ian had stored in the house. Alex was unsure what it meant, but it hadn't mattered in retrospect. The files had given him all he needed on MI6's unofficial prisons. Alex had taken out the living board members one after another. He had lied to Three. It wasn't going to be done until he was dead. He had been avoiding both sides at that point. Returning to his adopted family had been his last mistake, especially while Three was free. But the others had all died at more-or-less his hands. He hadn't wanted to risk getting that close to Kurst, but he was sure the missiles the Russians had lent him had done the job. They had killed his family, and Alex wouldn't put them past targeting his friends the way they had done with Jack. Alex had decided to kill the rest of them first. Well, he might have left the _good doctor_ alive. He walked into his private room and traced scars that no longer existed. It had been a good run, he supposed. This one would be better. There was a letter with an all-too-familiar scorpion on the envelope. Alex sliced it open.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Pierre,_

_I hear you've had a busy, busy year. I'm hoping to make it a little busier, I'm not going to lie. I was tragically forced out of Britain before some unfinished business got resolved. Since you seem to have the unfortunate things my legitimate colleagues like to call 'morals', I'll spice it up for you._

_In Britain, there is a lab. A lab I very much want to interfere with. It is a lab run by British intelligence. In this lab, they experiment on animals. There is a specific specimen I want that they have created. It is a special kind of moss. I wouldn't touch it if I were you, or breathe near it for that matter. You'll notice because it glows blue even in bright light. A jar in the mail should do. I wouldn't feel too bad about wrecking the lab. It has only six other live animal specimens. The rest are plants and embryos. Two snakes, both with modified venom, among other things. A scorpion that injects antivenom to its' natural form. A modified snow leopard; I could not find out what exactly they did to it, but it has a faint silver tint to its' fur. Plus, two fish - I have no earthly idea what they do except their obvious bioluminescence. You can do what you want with the animals and the facility, I just want the moss in a jar. It's basically another poisonous plant. Have fun! I'm leaving the details in your capable hands since you seem to have experience attacking well-guarded targets under the noses of intelligence agencies and criminal organizations both. Don't think I didn't spot your hand in the jar in Australia (photos attached, since MI6 is usually stingy about sharing 'em)._

_With Both Admiration and Acrimony,_

_Brendan Chase_

* * *

Alex just looked at the letter. Well, it looked like Death, or whatever had answered his wish to have pets. James would be delighted. Alex figured Jack wouldn't mind a fish tank after him adopting a dog and all. He shoved the letter in his backpack. The scorpion would be the tricky part. Most people didn't like them. Maybe Ian could be convinced to have it in the family lab? Antivenom was valuable and usually expensive to get. He'd just have to slide the part where he acquired said animals past Ian's gaze. Or maybe he'd luck out and Ian would get a mission soon. Alex wondered how many shadily acquired pets Crawley would fail to question before he asked. Probably a house-full, but you never knew. Jack knew he was a sucker for animals and that he always had been. Jack probably fondly remembered the time he'd saved a baby goat and kept it until they found the owner. It had, predictably, attempted to eat everything in sight - including the carpet. Alex fondly remembered the solid black pygmy goat. It had been small enough to fit in his arms. The soft ears had been all too easy to pet. The goat had been born without horns and was especially defenseless. Alex couldn't just leave it to fend for itself. Jack had just laughed and started making phone calls. He'd kept it in the garden with a makeshift pen. The grass had suffered for it. As it turned out, it had somehow escaped its' trailer during a cross-country trip to visit schools to educate kids about farming and where their food came from. Alex had a fond sort of smile on his face that faded as he walked into the bunker. He had an armed assault to plan. "Mads? I need blueprints for a crazy SCORPIA assignment."

The computer whirred to life. "Very well."

The hologram scanned the letter for a minute. "Mads, how many personnel does this place have?"

The computer pulled up records. "Seventy staff during the day, including the guards. None except the seven perimeter guards and a sniper at night."

Alex sighed. "I knew it couldn't be that easy."

The hologram approached him. "Will you do it?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Aww, Mads, it'll be fun. I won't even have to kill the guards if all goes well."

The computer paused, but the files kept printing. "And how do you plan to disguise your appearance?"

Alex smirked. "Well, Mads, I've got an idea."

The computer sighed. "You are clinically insane, Mr. Rider."

Alex laughed. "Well, Mads, I've got a nice psychologist that Patrick pays for."

Maddox retorted. "Whatever the amount, she should get a raise."

Alex shrugged. "I don't pay for her, but good luck."

Maddox would have shaken his head if his programming allowed it. He hoped Alex would have the good sense to flood the compound with knockout gas, just in case. Maddox decided adding a list of suggestions couldn't hurt.

* * *

The first thing Alex did before going home was commit the letter to memory before burning it with the lighter he always carried. As a rule, he usually kept his letters, but this was a little too risky. He would enter recent events in his computer log, just in case. This was the sort of thing he wanted to be dead before Ian found out about it if Ian found out about it. It wouldn't be pretty, otherwise. Then again, their relationship was kind of disintegrating. Alex didn't want to rush it, but they had been consistently arguing for almost his entire time back. He wondered what it meant. Would he rather go back? No. It was better this way. It was more real than what they had before, even if it hurt. And it hurt. It burned sometimes. Alex wondered how it would have gone if Ian had lived to his fifteenth birthday sometimes. How long? How long would Ian have kept it a secret? Probably Alex's whole life, if he was honest. It may not have worked, though. He had nearly found Ian out at thirteen, originally. But things were better with Jack. Tom actually had a home this time. Sure, Tom's parents were much worse off, but Alex found he had a hard time caring. James was going to get out of his arranged marriage this time. Ian would live if he had any say in it. Alex had left his plans in the bunker. Too much risk of discovery here and Maddox had a bunch of hidden compartments and lockboxes in mind. Alex would burn the papers afterward. Alex also began synthesizing sleeping gas. He would need to concentrate on it to work. There was also what he was going to use to submerge the area visually. It would have to either temporarily blind people, obscure visibility in general, or both. Alex was choosing both. He had a gas mask. Maddox had said that they wouldn't. Alex would just have to trust the computer's assessment of most of the factors. He couldn't really risk walking by and having the extra-shady pets. Tom would cover for him. So would the rest of his friends. Alex was just glad that the next two Fridays were predicted to be very still nights, wind-wise. It was rare in England, but the wind was better in the city. Alex took a deep breath and let it out as his next round of sleeping gas finished being compressed. He glanced at his watch. Time for dinner.

* * *

The plan to free James was in motion. Alex was glad that Ian was pretty much a machine when it came to doing assignments. It was great when he was on the same side as Alex. Sadly, Alex was planning to work against him in certain areas. Like his privacy and his arrangement with Chase, though he loathed to call it that. He preferred to think of it as Operation Acquire Cool Pets with a side trip and a gas mask, you know. Tom was telling them about his day at school. Alex suspected that the account was heavily edited to make it more palatable for the adults, but he wasn't going to say anything. He was really waiting to catch Tom alone. Ian was eyeing him with obvious suspicion which Alex felt was totally unwarranted. Alex really hadn't pulled anything that shady yet. "Is there something you want to tell us, Alex?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. "Not really, no."

Ian gave him a look. "Are you sure? Maybe it involves a train trip."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Ian. I've been going to Switzerland on my own for nearly two years, I don't think I'm going to be kidnapped if I haven't been already."

Ian just looked at him. "Why not take an adult?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't see a point. You all have other things to do. I can do it myself."

Jack was giving Ian the evil eye. Alex couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but he was not about to get in the middle of that argument. "Hey Tom, didn't you need help on that maths homework?"

Alex could say many things about his friend, but mathematics was not one of Tom's gifts. Tom could also take a hint. "You know I always do."

Alex smirked. "How about now?"

Tom jumped up after downing food at a rate even Alex envied. "Okay."

Alex loved Tom sometimes. His best friend was just really good at taking all of his hints. It was nice. Tom plopped down next to him after they head up the stairs. "So, what did you actually want to talk about? I usually have to drag you into math tutoring mode."

Alex grinned and gave his friend a warm look. "You know me so well."

It wouldn't be in character for him to hug Tom, but he was tempted to anyway. Tom was giving him a suspicious look. "Alex."

Alex knew he couldn't really bullshit Tom. "Yes?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Get on with it. I know it is going to be bad."

Alex frowned. "It's not that bad, Tom. I just want you to cover for me. It'll be this or next Friday. Try to convince the others, please."

Tom just looked at him. "And what will you be doing?"

Alex gave Tom an innocent look. "Rescuing our new pets from their abusive owners, Tom, what else?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Fine."

Alex gave his friend the smile he knew crumbled Tom's resolved like a good blue cheese. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom just looked a little stunned. "Sure."

Alex gave his friend a teasing look. "We should probably actually do math now. Don't want the adults to start wondering what we're doing behind closed doors."

Alex felt the light swat on the back of his head and laughed. "Oi!"

* * *

Alex eventually decided to pull his stunt the week after this one. It would give him more time to prepare. Besides, he figured two break-ins in one week was a bit much for trying to live a semi-normal life. Or rather, sort of trying. Alex wasn't sure he actually was, but he would give it lip-service until he was blue in the face. Alex figured his usual break-in would be enough. Sneaking out of his house was pretty effortless. Alex wondered if he shouldn't start practicing going out of windows again, just in case. It was always good to have an escape route and second-story windows were not that dangerous. Adrian would be teaching him parkour soon and Alex could safely say he was stoked. Alex entered through Belinda's window with practiced ease. The woman was sitting on the couch, eyeing him with no small amount of amusement. "Do you ever enter a house the normal way?"

Alex snorted. "Yes, I do, Doc. You're just special."

Belinda just shook her head. "You are not the first to tell me so. I sincerely hope you will be the last."

Alex shrugged. "I suppose Ian told you to expect me."

The woman inclined her head. "Indeed. Though I think he expected you to come right away."

Alex sat down. "He wanted me to. I wasn't really ready until today, though."

Belinda arched her brow. "And why is that?"

Alex looked at her. "I'm better if I have cool-down time. Time to process a bit, you know? Also, I was busy. I have other things on the table."

Belinda was taking notes as per usual. "Your education?"

Alex looked at her. "Among other things. I have projects on the side, you know."

Belinda perked up. "Side projects?"

Alex gave her a look. "You know, like my garden."

Belinda's unamused look was hilarious to Alex. "The one full of poison?"

Alex gave her an innocent look. "Aww, It's not all poison. Besides, I do other stuff, like computer projects."

Belinda sighed. "I would advise that you did not do anything too weapon-like in your projects."

Alex gave her a look. "Oh, come on. It's a translator project for mandarin. The online stuff can't even translate the word 'dissection' reliably."

Belinda gave him an amused glance. "Learning Mandarin under your uncle's nose, are we?"

Alex looked unmoved. "Yes."

Belinda looked at him. "Why? He could probably help you."

Alex gave a sort of shrug. "I prefer doing things on my own."

Belinda didn't think so. "No, I think you are just used to it. Tell me, if Tom Harris could match you, would you work with him?"

Alex paused. It was a long, empty silence. "Yes."

Belinda made a note. "Why him and not Ian or another adult? Why do you prefer your peers?"

The boy was quiet for a long time. "Tom never lied to me. None of my peers ever meaningfully lied to me."

Belinda paused. "And the adults did?"

Alex felt the rage that came from another life, full of death and pain bleed through. "Yes. They _lied_ to me. They _all_ lied to me. And I _hate_ being lied to. All it _ever_ did was cause me pain."

For a second, he was fourteen and speaking with Alan Blunt. For another, he was fifteen as Tulip lied and told him that they did everything to prevent the deaths of his friends. For the third, he was sixteen and cutting off Brendan Chase's head off his corpse with Nile's sword to ship to Tulip. Then, he was back to being twelve and alive again. Belinda was frozen and eyeing him. "Are you okay?"

Alex let out most of the built-in anger with a breath. It wasn't her fault that the adults in his life had decided to be extra shitty pieces of shit. "For now."

* * *

Belinda let out a mental sigh of relief. At least he wasn't completely psychotic. Evidently, he had some issues with the number of secrets in the family. It wasn't too uncommon. He'd probably have lifelong trust issues, though. Ten was a very delicate age. "Why don't we discuss something else?"

Alex looked at her. Belinda was pretty sure there was something grateful in his expression. "Alright then."

Belinda gave a mental sigh of relief. At least he was decently receptive. But, then, he was twelve. "Why did you take your first life?"

Alex remembered, once upon a time, facing two men alone in a field, but that was another life. "Er, he was wearing explosives and pointing a gun at Ian. I didn't feel like finding out who was going to win that stand-off, so I shot him."

Belinda paused. "Why were you in Germany in the first place?"

Alex seemed to pause for another minute. "I was on a hiking trip that I was about to conclude. I saw Ian by accident in the town I stopped in for supplies and decided to follow him. I wanted a break from living in the house and I figured that the German Alps were going to be decently empty outside of ski resorts in the winter."

Belinda made another mark on her clipboard. "And you wanted a break because?"

Alex let out a long sigh. "I was getting tired of being watched closely. It makes me twitchy. I'm used to being on my own and doing things on my own, you know."

Belinda tapped her clipboard and placed it down. "Are you? The file says that you were with either your uncle or Ms. Starbright for the most part in the last five years."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not used to Ian being aware, you know. There is a difference between between being present and being mentally present, you know."

The woman paused. "Do you feel affected by this lack?"

Alex gave her a mildly derisive look. "Sometimes. Sometimes, not being watched is a relief, you know."

The former psychologist looked at him. "Like when?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I occasionally want privacy, you know. Nobody likes to be micromanaged."

Belinda was far from surprised. Nobody in his family liked to be micromanaged. Some people found it freeing. "Understood."

Alex gave her a rather cross look. "If I find you in violation of what I believe your professional ethics should be, I will kill you."

Belinda sighed. "I'm well aware. You would most likely have to get in line."

Alex gave her a look. "Fine."

The doctor resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had gotten daily death threats, once upon a time. "Would you care to elaborate on your set of ethics?"

Alex glared. "I only kill in self-defense or defense of friends. No torture and no children."

Belinda made a mental note. "Seems straightforward enough."

Alex shrugged. "You would think, but you would be wrong."

Belinda perked up. "Really? Do tell."

Alex gave her an amused look. "Well, you see, at the last family reunion, Aunt Crazy…"

* * *

The session had lasted about five hours. Belinda rubbed her eyes. It was almost five in the morning by the time he had left. She didn't actually mind long sessions or the early hour, but it was interesting that he chose to break into her house in the middle of the night rather than coming at normal hours in the normal fashion. Alex was interesting. He seemed to function more like an adult at times. A very poorly adjusted adult who was closer to the assassins she had once created than a well-adjusted member of society. Belinda sighed. It wasn't too far from what Patrick wanted to create. The child already had an independent streak. He already could probably live on his own, not that he should. Alex was very near breaking in several areas. Belinda was composing her report, for herself. Patrick didn't actually want them, which was odd. Normally, the man seized every single scrap of paper relating to his family. It was not really for her to wonder about. Then again, perhaps he was just biding his time until Alex had a better family reunion. Judging from Alex's brutally honest description, Belinda wouldn't hold her breath if she was him. Marion Beckett was many things, but emotionally stable and charming were not two of her main qualities, to say the least. Marion and Alex seemed to have a complex relationship. Belinda would have sworn she should have been shot by Alex by now, but Alex seemed reluctant to take aim at his own relatives. Albeit, Alex was likely going to take issue with the good majority of his adult relatives at some point. He'd already (non-lethally) shot them. Belinda found it hilariously ironic that he'd done it to stop them from arguing (well, shooting each other). Alex had pretty freely talked about his relatives. The child had acknowledged that they weren't the best, but Belinda wondered if he realized just how bad they were. Belinda noted that he seemed oddly comfortable with defending his relatives, even in a lethal fashion. He seemed to care for them, even if they were completely psychotic. Not that she could really blame him. Her family hadn't been much better. It had taken her much longer to give up hope, too. Belinda recalled her own family. Her mother had oscillated between being sweet and loving and flying into terrifying rages where she physically assaulted them for the smallest things. Her father had been cold and entirely emotionally disconnected. She only recalled three times when he'd told her he even cared for her. And one of those was when he was dying. Belinda's sister had committed suicide before her tenth birthday. She hardly recalled the girl, now.

* * *

Alex got back to Jack's sleepy look and Ian sitting at the table. Ian seemed almost inhumanly aware for five in the morning. Alex glared at him over breakfast. Ian just gave him an utterly amused look. "How was your nightly session?"

Alex resisted the urge to answer very, very rudely. "Fine."

Ian seems to read the unsaid _fuck you_ quite well but was ignoring it for whatever reasoning. Jack gave him a loving look as she set his mug of hot chocolate down. She promptly turned her glare on Ian. Alex was pretty used to their arguments now. Tom was still in bed, like any actually sane person. Alex was not exactly concerned with much of anything at the moment. His mind was elsewhere. He needed to revise the plan for that facility. There was the thing on Friday, like always, where they would be taking care of the friendly neighborhood drug dealer. Alex was tempted to just track him down and plunge a knife in his back but didn't want to risk it badly enough to piss off his friends. Plus, they would probably not like him murdering people left and right. "Why are you up at five in the morning?"

Ian raised an eyebrow. "I have a job."

Alex just kept looking at Ian. "We both know your work doesn't start for at least another three hours."

Ian gave him a look. Alex could see the mirth in his eyes. He was in the mood for a to play - in the verbal sense. Well, Alex could help with that. "Do you, now? Perhaps I got called in early."

Alex snorted into his coffee. "If you were, you wouldn't be on your third cup of coffee, you'd be put the door already."

Ian sighed. "Is true. This is cup of coffee number four, by the way."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Long night?"

Ian gave him the evil eye. "Don't those jokes get a little old?"

Alex smirked. "Oh, so Crawley and you had an argument and you had to sleep on the couch."

Ian barked out a laugh. "Oh, no. Not that it's any of your concern. I was looking into the thing for James."

Alex gave Ian an expectant look. "Finish your breakfast first."

Alex gave Ian a pleading look. "But Ian, I'm dying to know."

Ian was looking thoroughly amused. "Yes. Now you know how I feel whenever you walk off into the ether with no note."

Alex huffed. "You used to do it all the time."

In his opinion, Ian had absolutely no room to talk. Alex heard Jack inhale sharply. In the past life, Alex had never quite gotten the courage to confront Ian about it before Ian had died. Ian shrugged. "Work emergencies."

Alex was in a very bad mood. "Yes, Ian. Well, I was having a mood emergency. I needed my space."

Jack was coughing loudly into her napkin. Alex tried not to use his snippy gems on people he cared for. It didn't always work out that way. "Did you try talking to anybody first?"

Jack was now looking incredulously at Ian. Alex retorted. "Yes. It was their reaction that drove me straight into the German Alps during winter, I'm afraid. Sometimes the snow is preferable to the company, no offense Jack."

Ian just sighed. Jack looked fairly alarmed. They had both previously had some pretty nasty shouting matches in the past. Alex didn't blame her for being nervous. "Do you want to continue this discussion elsewhere?"

Alex placed his fork down gently. He was tempted to slam it down. Alex was practicing controlling his temper. It was more difficult than it should be. Maybe it was the fact that this wasn't life or death. It was important, though. Or, at least, it was important to him. "No, I bloody well don't. Either lead by example or don't bitch about my habits when they match yours. Now, I'm going to bed."

Alex went up the stairs and did not slam his door. It was a close thing, but he didn't want to wake the fluffball or Tom. Alex didn't bother showering and brushed his teeth. Fenrir was still asleep when Alex rejoined him. The wolf opened one sleepy eye and promptly closed it again.

* * *

Ian Rider had been awoken by Alex leaving the house. It had been both a relief and not. Alex was probably going to therapy, but Ian had no way of knowing. Alex was not particularly good about telling him where he was going. Crawley, to his credit, had either slept through it or (more likely) just not said anything. It was all Ian could do really. Wait for Jo-Alex to get home. Ian knew letting them blend in his head was a bad idea. It was kind of hard to remember he was standing next to Alex and not John. Especially if Ian hallucinated John there about a quarter of the time. In a few years, Alex would even match his and his brother's height. It was when they argued that Ian remembered that Alex and John were different. John had always pushed to solve the problem. Alex would bicker with you. Ian was trying, but it was close, so close. It was so painful to look at him sometimes. It was not just John, but also Helen. Despite his father's protests, the woman had been impossible not to love. A bit of a fiery temper, but then, that was pretty much all of them. Helen would have bitch-slapped Blunt the minute she saw him look at Alex sideways. Ian wondered if Alex would ever have to death threat Blunt the way they all had. It had just been a mess in the end. Then, they had died. Tulip had given him Alex and Ian had nearly had a stroke. Him? Well, he would try. Ian knew he was failing, though. He wasn't John. He couldn't be a good father and loving husband and the best special operations agent in MI6. He knew he was failing and he couldn't even comprehend why. Ian knew it was because he had been doing his job too long. It had hollowed him out. It was to the point that he couldn't even comprehend what he was doing wrong, he didn't know why or how. It just vaguely felt wrong in the back of his mind. Ian wondered how much of Ian was left, how much of it was Agent Rider, and how much of it was just Shade, the shadow, the remnant. "Ian?"

Starbright was giving him a concerned look. "Yes, Ms. Starbright?"

The woman sighed. "Never mind. Just keep your promise to Alex, okay?"

Ian remembered. The Tower. "I always do."

The woman looked at him with a mix of pity and something he couldn't quite place. "Yes, well, I would try to keep this one. Alex doesn't really do _third_ chances, you know."

With a flash of fire-orange, she was gone, leaving him alone at the head of the table. Ian wondered if it wasn't a subtle hint. It was time to talk to Tulip.

* * *

Tulip Jones rarely had visitors, much less unannounced ones, but she could guess who this one was. Her house was always thoroughly checked for bugs. She held her gun pointed at the man through the door just in case. The frame eased as she cracked the door, her heart hammering on instinct. "Ian."

They didn't really bother with the pleasantries as much unless they were making statements to each other. "Tulip. Going to let me in?"

She opened the door. "The doorman will talk."

Ian smirked at her. "Doubtful. We pay them, remember? Besides, Crawley knows I'm faithful."

Tulip let out a sigh. Her heart rate was beginning to go back down. Ian plopped himself onto her couch. He didn't look like he had gotten much sleep if she was honest. "So, I've got a plan. Well, I've got several plans."

Jones shook her head. "It's already taken care of."

Ian paused mid-breath. "What?"

Tulip straightened. "It's already taken care of. I poisoned Alan Blunt."

Ian looked genuinely surprised. "Why? We both know-"

Tulip cut him off. "That you hate killing. Well, yes. I thought it was time to do my own dirty work for a change. Besides, I promised Helen I'd keep her son safe. Alex is the same age as _he_ would have been. I lost my children, Ian. I'm not losing this one, not for Alan Blunt, not again."

Jones hadn't realized that she'd expelled that much breath. Ian shrugged. "Fair enough. Congratulations on your promotion, Director."

Tulip shook her head. "We've got three weeks to come up with something so this doesn't look like an inside job."

Ian sighed. "What did you use?"

Tulip pulled out a dagger. Ian started. It was _the_ knife or a very good copy. "Julia Rothman's knife?"

Jones shook her head. "No. The knives were always twins. Julia had another copy made for me back in the Cold War. You'll notice the patterns are a mirror, not a copy of hers. I thought, well, it was a long time ago and I was new."

Ian looked at her softly. "You thought she was your friend. Or you thought she wouldn't betray you, at the very least."

Tulip sighed. "I was young."

Ian gave her a shrug. "It's okay. I thought I could trust people, too. Nobody really saw Howell coming, you know."

Jones shook her head. "I guess we know better now."

Ian laughed. "Do we, Tulip? Do we? Alan was sizing up a child for recruitment. We didn't see that coming. Who's next, do you think?"

Tulip slapped him. Ian didn't react. "I think I ought to have retired you."

Ian chuckled. "Yeah? And who is going to take my place? They would have died in my place, Tulip. Every single last one of your agents. And one day, I'm going to die, too. You might want to start looking for a replacement."

Tulip sighed. "A task for another day. And I'm sorry for hitting you."

Ian just shrugged, which somehow made it worse. "There isn't anything you can do that will hurt worse than the day you closed that investigation."

Jones sighed. A long time ago, she might have hit him again or screamed at him. "Do you want more breakfast?"

Ian shook his head. "Nah, I mean, you did just poison our boss and talk about retiring me."

The man had got up and out of the door by the time he finished his sentence. "IAN RIDER!"

Jones heard his muffled laugh as he slammed the door behind him. Goddamn him. She had almost gotten him to act serious for fifteen minutes.

* * *

Ian got back to the house and to his room just as Crawley woke up for the day. "What are you and Tulip up to now?"

Ian gave Crawley his trademark smirk. "You'll see."

The man rolled his eyes. "Drama. You could just tell me it's classified and Jones is making you keep it a secret."

Ian just grinned. "Don't worry about it. It's mostly taken care of."

John gave Ian the evil eye. "You say that about every mission report and they still come in a month late."

Ian laughed. "Well, they were. I just misplaced them."

Crawley threw his pillow at Ian. "Bullshit! I've filed two-hundred and sixty-seven reports you've forgotten in the past twelve years."

Ian threw his pillow right back at him. "I think you need a pillow fight. Does that include or exclude those late comp forms?"

John Crawley rolled off the bed and threw a pillow at Ian. "That's it damn it! I've had to re-do and file everyone's fuck-ups! Do you know how hard my job is?! Then I have to deal with the psych people and prove that corruption is corruption!"

Ian threw a pillow at him that cut off his rant. Crawley wasn't sure he minded all that much. He threw the pillow back at Ian and beaned him with his pillow. Then, Ian got an evil gleam in his eyes and promptly tackled him. It was gentle and Ian cushioned his head. "How are you feeling now?"

Crawley glanced up. There was a distinct hand-print on Ian's face. "Puzzled. Who the fuck slapped you that hard?"

Ian shrugged. "Eh, Tulip."

Crawley was pissed. "Are you shitting me?"

Ian looked puzzled. "Well, no. I was winding her up, John, don't worry about it. Make-up'll cover it if you find it off-putting."

John Crawley glared at Ian. "Off-putting?! She bloody well assaulted you. You even sound like an abuse victim, Christ's sake. _It was my fault; I made him mad._ "

The last part said in a falsetto. Ian sighed. "It's cool. She said sorry."

Crawley huffed. "Fine. But if it happens again, I am bloody well pressing charges."

Ian smiled at him. "You're cute when you're protective."


	55. Fabrications and Flame

Alex was going to dinner with his friends. The atmosphere was pretty somber once the adults left them alone. "So, drug dealer."

Adrian was never one for subtlety. Alex placed his fork down. "I say he dies."

Adrian stared at him. "Jesus. Maybe we go over the other options first?"

Tom was staring at him. James looked a little stunned. "Alex are you okay?"

It was Gillian, of course. "Perfectly fine. Never better."

Seven pairs of skeptical eyes turned on him. "Really?"

It was James asking this time. Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes. I'm seeing a psychologist and everything, don't worry."

Mandy looked at him. "Who?"

Alex shrugged. "Belinda Mordant."

Adrian hissed. "She was forced to retire for unethical therapies."

Tom blinked. Alex shrugged. "She seems competent enough."

Tom was looking between him and everybody else. "Relax, Tom. Everything is fine. Perfectly fine."

Tom just looked at him. "Alex, you would say that even if we were sitting in a house and everything was on fire."

Alex huffed. "Material possessions aren't really worth that much."

Tom snorted. "Missing the point, Alex."

Alex grinned. "But, Tom, you like me anyway."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I do. Dumb blonde moments and all."

Alex would have thrown his fork at Tom if they were in his house. Instead, he just gave Tom the evil eye. "Fine. You can do your own homework from now on."

Tom began to protest but was cut off by Nigel. "I'd like to get this meeting done by midnight."

Alex quieted down. Tom was still giving him a playfully pleading look. They both knew that the sentence was a lie. "Right. Drug dealer."

Adrian sighed. "An arrest is an option, but we'd have to do a lot of planning. We could steal or destroy his supply and let the street take care of the rest. Or we can go on the sliding scale of interpersonal violence."

Alex considered it for a second. "Destroying his stuff would be pretty easy. I've got all kinds of fun stuff. Plus, drug labs blow up all the time."

He had done that in the beginning. Dropped a ship on a conference center. "But that begs the question of what happens if the guy gets out of trouble."

Tom sighed. "Alex. You can't punish everyone personally."

Alex looked at his best friend. "Do you really want me to accept that challenge, Tom?"

His friend was glaring at him. "Alex."

Alex gave Tom an innocent look. "Tom."

Mandy cut in. "How about a compromise?"

Alex was instantly suspicious. "Like what?"

Mandy sighed. "Get him caught with his supplies. He'll go to prison for a very long time, and nobody has to get out their weaponry collection."

Alex could live with that. "Fine by me."

Tom's eye twitched. The rest of the group seemed to accept that idea. Adrian stood. "Next, we have to vote."

* * *

After the meeting, it was educational activities time. Adrian was teaching this time. "Alright, how much do you know about parkour?"

Alex only knew the bare basics. They had helped him quite a bit. It was more muscle memory at this point. He'd decided to wait for practice partners and a real teacher because some of it could get pretty dangerous. It was like parachuting without a buddy. You didn't do it unless you had to. Alex felt his lips twitch as he remembered a certain BASE jump. He'd made more over the years. Some for fun and some not. Maybe he'd pick up a "new" hobby to tick off Ian. The most dangerous extreme sport in the world. Ian would either hate it or insist on coming with him. Adrian grinned. "So, the first thing we should go over is safety tips. I would not recommend doing this without a partner unless you are actively running from people you want to avoid. Try to avoid anything over three stories unless you are experienced. Water is never optimal if you are running afterward. And, you know, general common sense."

Alex really just wanted to get started but was trying to focus on his friend. There was an obstacle course in the basement. Alex got the feeling they could change it as they went along. He also had other underground spaces that Tom knew about. Maybe Maddox could be convinced to change up the basement? Alex was pretty sure the computer didn't mind, but he didn't want to risk pissing him off. "And now we can start running leaps. After warm-up."

Alex grinned at his fellow friends' groans. Tom looked at him. "You're insane, Al."

Alex laughed a bit. "Says the one on the football team. Don't you practice at least five times a week?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yeah, but you're the only one in the class that liked warm-up."

Alex shrugged. It was kind of fun. "Is everybody warm?"

Adrian eyed them expectantly. Alex interrupted. "Uh, no. Not even close."

Adrian looked at him. "How long is it going to take?"

Alex shrugged. "I'll speed up. Maybe twenty?"

Adrian sighed. "Seconds?"

The man sounded hopeful for some reason. "Nope. Minutes."

Alex sped up after that. Sword training with Ian was pretty intense. It was kind of a pain to take almost forty minutes to warm up. He caught Mandy sending him a mildly envious look. "Erm. How much do you exercise per day?"

Alex shrugged. He was done now. "About three or four hours. I take every fifteenth day off, though."

Tom squeaked. "Four hours?! Where do you have the time?"

Alex shrugged. "Here and there."

It helped that he slept less than he used to originally. Six to ten hours was plenty. Twelve actually made him mildly ill. Mandy looked at Adrian. "Did you check with your doctor?"

Alex shrugged. "Oh, yeah. All three. Plus, Ian checked, too."

Adrian sighed loudly. "Alright, back to class. We're doing running jumps. Try not to fall face first."

It was a fun time.

* * *

Everybody except Alex and Adrian was out of breath at the end. Alex realized comparing them to the standards he was used to was patently unfair and didn't say a word. It was kind of funny to see, though. Tom just looked at him funny. "How?"

Alex shrugged. "Sword practice with Ian."

Plus, his own private exercises and karate class. James just looked at him. "You should try out for a marathon."

Alex shrugged. Marathons weren't really his thing. He honestly preferred football. "How would you feel about a pet snake?"

James perked up a bit. "Sounds awesome. Why?"

Alex shrugged. "Just curious. Mandy mentioned she liked snakes so I wondered."

James accepted it without question. Alex was glad they were only twelve sometimes. It made for less suspicious friends. You could even ask random questions. Adrian tapped the doorway. "We need to plan now."

Alex shrugged and finished his cool-ish down. They all went back to their secret library. "So, we frame him with pictures and burn down his lab."

Adrian was taking notes. "Yeah, but we need to plan the details."

Alex shrugged. "I can get the pictures since I don't have school. You guys can do the lab."

Adrian scribbled down a note. "Right, but what about actually getting him tied up. He's not just going to let you do it if you ask nicely."

Alex shrugged. "I can handle it."

He had sedatives in the basement, after all. Diluted poisons worked great for these things. "I'll take your word for it. Reluctantly. You are going to add to the files once you are done."

Alex shrugged. "Fine."

Adrian sighed. "Now, does anyone store explosi-"

Alex just raised his hand. "Of course, you do. Care to lend us some?"

Alex had a twisted sort of grin on his face. "Of course. Sharing is caring."

Tom rolled his eyes. "You would say that."

Alex smirked. "We share prank items all the time, Tom."

James just shook his head. "I'll just start saving up for bail and attorney fees, shall I?"

Alex laughed. The rest of the group looked amused. It was bedtime shortly after that.

* * *

Alex was not going to enlist Ian for help, so this required careful planning. He decided to take a few key items for his shenanigans. Alex grabbed a bug. The real challenge would be getting it attached to the guy or his lair. He was going to have to get creative. Thankfully, the basement and his own underground fort had their own sets. Alex decided to take a leaf out of the future's book. Nobody in this era had ever heard of hacking cellphones unless they were in security or intelligence. This would work to his advantage. Plus, the phones would have a lot more holes in their software, since no company would have bothered to firm up the software for your average, everyday Joe. Alex remembered how several viruses worked. They wouldn't hit the public for another few years if he was careful (and remembered correctly). The first thing would be getting access to the device. It would be better if he actually had the physical phone, but the guy would probably ditch the phone if it went missing for any significant portion of time. The next best would be the phone company. "Sorry, my phone isn't working." It was classic. In theory, you could clone the phone and nobody would be any the wiser, as long as you didn't make any calls from it yourself. A short program would ensure all phone calls would be recorded by the clone. It was a pity phone software was so new and vulnerable, wasn't it? Alex had checked and there weren't even laws written for what he could do on phones. Smithers was a wonderful, wonderful man. Alex hadn't even asked for those specific kinds of books. First, he'd have to look up the model software and hardware and do a test run, of course. It wouldn't do to overpower the guy's phone or the clone he had made. That could have nasty consequences with the way the batteries were built. Safety standards were different from the world he'd left behind. A few years later in his other life, there had been a series of battery flames and blow-ups. It had resulted in better safety standards than the current ones. Of course, unless somebody deliberately rigged a phone to blow, the most you would probably get was singed skin and maybe a missing ear or finger. Or if you were hideously unlucky, the shrapnel would lodge in your brain and eventually kill you. At any rate, Alex did not want the phone to actually blow up. Alex wondered if cheerfully whistling would arouse too much suspicion from Ian. Probably, but he didn't care. About twenty minutes into his project, Ian barged in. "What are you doing?"

Alex gave him a look. "Typing. On my computer. Look, I even have most of my weapons on my bed."

Ian was eyeing him suspiciously. Alex was glad he hadn't gotten the phones to rig up to his computer yet (he was going to get the make and model of the guy's phone later today). "Alex."

Alex gave Ian his most put-upon look. "Oh, c'mon Ian. I have two totally non-malignant projects running that Smithers checks. I'd have to be programming at some point during the week _and I do this for fun_."

Ian let out a long sigh. "Alright."

Alex gave Ian a thoroughly unamused look. "Did you have something to tell me or did you just barge in because your paranoia is setting in?"

Ian huffed. "My paranoia is justified, _brat_. I was coming to tell you we're going to The Tower next week."

Alex shrugged. "Cool."

Ian looked at him. "You really have changed, haven't you?"

Alex wasn't sure what that was supposed to mean. "It happens, Ian."

Ian man looked at him for a bit and then left him alone.

* * *

Ian Rider knew he was a complete failure at parenting sometimes. He'd kind of not known that Smithers had that much interaction with Alex. Had Alex mentioned it? Ian couldn't actually remember. He decided he was going several floors off from his usual spot. It was time to visit the device maker. "Smithers."

The man looked excited to see him. "Ian. How can I help you? Exploding pens? We've got a new Taser model -"

Ian cut him off with a raised hand. "I'm here about Alex."

Smithers paused. "Ah, caught on, did you?"

Ian sighed. "He didn't exactly tell me anything."

Smithers sighed. "Your nephew is quite brilliant really. He used a VPN to contact me and has at least two independent servers, although he likes to pretend it's only one. The current projects are translating Mandarin reliably and something to do with semi-conductors and smaller computer chips. You wouldn't really understand most of the second one, I'm afraid."

Ian stared. "Mandarin. Alex doesn't know – shit."

Smithers gave him a sympathetic look. "I suspect he has more…offensive projects, but he doesn't show me them, so I can neither confirm nor deny such things."

Smithers was almost certain he did but wasn't about to try to find them. It was bad form and he was weaker in some of the areas Alex was better in. It wasn't really his aim to make Alex cross with him either. "Goddamn it, Smithers, why doesn't anybody tell me these things."

He sympathized with Ian Rider, but Smithers was ultimately more empathetic towards Alex. His guardian had once been similarly absent. It hadn't led anywhere good for him. MI6 had not exactly been his first choice in careers, but it had been that or jail time. Smithers didn't resent it anymore, but he didn't want Alex in the same position. "I assumed he told you or that you would ask."

That was a complete lie, but Ian Rider didn't know him well enough to tell. He knew for a fact Alex wasn't going to tell Ian unless he had to. Smithers also knew Ian Rider was absent enough not to notice. "Well, next time, tell me. And ask me. I'm his guardian."

Smithers personally didn't think much of Ian Rider's parenting abilities but knew enough to keep his mouth shut about that. It was better if he could act semi-paternally in private. "I'll keep you updated."

Ian left. Oh, Smithers would keep him updated alright. He'd just write the papers with as much technical jargon as possible and deliberately obfuscate much of the projects. It might be a touch spiteful, but Smithers was of the opinion Ian couldn't take care of a damn pet rock, much less Alex. An alert popped up on his computer. Alex had a question. Well, best get back to it. He'd have to do actual work after lunch.

* * *

Alex loved Smithers. Maybe more than he should for someone thoroughly attached to MI6, but Smithers was _fun_. Smithers gave him hacking books and reviewed his code. The man even sent him unauthorized gadgets to take apart for fun. It was kind of nice, almost like having that cool computer uncle he never knew he wanted or needed. Gramps knew stuff and so did Ian, but they both tended to suck the fun out of it. Plus, Smithers knew more. He was also more fun and didn't give him that "only for emergencies" bullshit. Computer skills needed to be practiced. Alex thoroughly enjoyed doing so. If a career in IT didn't sound like something MI6 might recruit him for, Alex might actually go for it. For now, he wanted to stay off their radar. Art degrees were useless, right? A fake logo on one of their helicopters sprang to mind. Damn it. Underwater basket weaving? Ian would kill him. Jack might know about college stuff. Alex was pretty sure Ian had a degree, but Ian would be much less supportive of him not choosing something actually useful. He hadn't really taken college seriously last time around and now kind of regretted it. Medicine? He actually wouldn't mind the ability to perform surgery, especially if some idiot decided to shoot his relatives. It would require a shit ton of schooling, though. Alex kind of disliked college. Hmm. Alex walked downstairs. "Jack."

Jack looked up. "Yes, Honey."

Alex plopped himself down. "How did you decide what major you wanted?"

Jack paused. "I decided I wanted to study something I could tolerate doing for the rest of my life. I even liked it on most days. Why?"

Alex frowned. "I'm trying to pick a major."

Jack sat down next to him. "What did you have in mind?"

Alex looked at her. "Medicine. I want to be a surgeon."

Jack looked at him. "Why?"

Alex looked her in the eye. "I want to save people who need help."

Jack looked startled. "That's very honorable of you."

Jack had personally been hoping he would choose something less stressful. Alex shrugged. "Eh, not really."

Jack gave him a fond look. "I'll get a few medical school pamphlets."

Alex gave her a fond look. "Thank you, Jack."

Jack just looked at him oddly but walked off to get started. Alex realized that he had never thanked her for that much in his past life. The guilt poked at him. Alex crushed it. He would _do_ better this time. He would _be_ better this time.

* * *

Tom Harris knew that two years ago he would never have dreamed he would actually be doing this. It was almost like being an actual spy. Tom was pretty sure Alex would disapprove of his dream, but still be nice to him about it. His fingers circled the tracking device in his pocket once more. It was a bad habit, but not all of them could just drop all of their tells like Alex. He was actually concerned about his friend and ninety percent sure it was Ian/the other relatives' fault. Who in the bloody hell went from basically pacifism to "let's kill him" in one year without serious shit going on? Tom was almost certain they routinely harmed him physically. I mean, Alex was pretty well-fed, but the guy wore long sleeves in the middle of London summer. No, he was not buying "the sun gives you cancer" for even a hot second. He'd been there. Maybe he could convince Alex to do a slumber party? James would probably go for it. Tom had asked him about one of the scars and been told: "Aunt Crazy got a little too enthusiastic during cooking lessons". Yeah, sure. Maybe if Aunt Crazy was practicing butchering humans on him. You could not possibly bugger up that badly while chopping tomatoes. Especially since Aunt Crazy was graceful, just like the rest of Alex's mutant family. She had just gotten out of the hospital and she was still not clumsy in the slightest. Tom was ninety percent sure Ian wasn't in on it, but you never knew. Plus, Alex was wearing long sleeves in the summer. Even their school uniforms didn't have long sleeves during summer. Tom tried to refocus on the situation at hand. He was glad Mandy had forged the paperwork to get him that year-long trip to Russia. Maybe General "I really want a son" would be a bit nicer than the rest of Alex's relatives. Mandy had said that Alex looked creepily like the dude's dead son, but Tom figured that it worked to Alex's advantage. With any luck, general dude would be feeling extra paternal. Tom was kind of crossing his fingers on that one. Maybe one of them would get a real father figure. Tom had kind of read Alex's letters to the man (he didn't trust Alex's creep-dar to work) and it had seemed pretty wholesome. Gillian had been pretty good about translating them from very formal Russian. Tom felt the tracker inside his jacket as the man approached. For once, he could focus. It was time.

* * *

Alex waited until Ian left the house and was way out of the driveway before he grabbed his backpack. It was time to stalk a drug dealer. With Ian around, he couldn't really do a twenty-four-hour stint, which was probably for the best, but it was irritating to him nonetheless. Alex kind of missed the freedom he had once had. Of course, the death of his relatives and friends was way too high a cost for him to pay, but it had been almost nice to have nobody question his whereabouts if he disappeared for days on end. He pulled out a device. One of his friends would have gotten somebody to place a tracker on the man or done it themselves. The dealer was easy enough to find once he got in the general area. It was a pretty touristy area near the museum district. Alex figured this would be easier than he thought. Nobody would question a twelve-year-old taking pictures of random people in London. Alex made sure to slow down as much as possible before snapping pictures of the guy. He was leaning on a fire hydrant near a restaurant. Alex glanced at the place. It looked like the usual overpriced tourist trap place, but it was going to be a very convenient early lunch for him. Alex walked in and waited to be seated. Sure enough, the menu was...not at all Ian approved. Alex gleefully chose fish and chips. "I'll have, ehhm, that fish and chips thang."

Well, the southern accent might be a bit strong, but it seemed to do the trick. "Do y'all have coca-cola?"

The waiter sighed. "Yes, we do. I'll bring the ketchup, shall I?"

Alex beamed at the man. "Sure thang, thank yuh."

The waiter went off to get his food. Alex took the moment to get out his camera and set it in the position where it would be pointed at the drug dealer through the glass. Then he switched the flash off and set it to snap pictures every two seconds. It was going to be a more interesting day than most. He'd had to leave Fenrir at home, much to his dog's disappointment. Fenrir was very recognizable and Alex didn't really want to risk it. It was kind of fun. Maybe he'd go to the science museum afterward. The fish and chips came out pretty quickly. Alex was glad. They were pretty delicious, even with putting ketchup on his fish. It was kind of a travesty, but he needed to fit the stereotype. Alex put as little ketchup on it as possible, though. The waiter's expression was kind of hilarious. It was the look one might wear when discovering a cockroach in your cookie jar. "Are you ready for the check?"

Alex cheerfully replied. "Yes, thank yuh. It was wonderful."

The waiter sighed and wandered off to get him the check. Alex flicked his camera off the photo-taking mode. He would check the photos later after he went to the museum. Ian had mentioned they had a new exhibit on gemstones.

* * *

Alex got back to the house with about an hour to spare for dinner. He'd walk Fenrir in the evening. Ian immediately swooped in on him. "Where were you?"

Alex took off his shoes. "Good evening to you too, Ian. I had a nice day, what about you?"

Ian glared at him with no small amount of suspicion. "Why did _General Sarov_ send you the biggest pile of Russian medical textbooks I have ever seen in my life?"

Alex perked up. "Wait, really? I only asked for two and as book suggestions."

Ian looked at him. There was a large pile of books in the entryway behind Ian. "Oh, he sent you your two books alright. And their extended reading. And the extended reading of that extended reading."

Alex just stared at Ian in shock. Ian was giving him a thoroughly grumpy look. "I didn't even know you were interested in medicine."

Alex sighed. "I was planning on telling you eventually."

Ian huffed. "Like when? The day you graduate with your doctorate?"

Alex retorted. "Don't be ridiculous, Ian, I would have told you after my pre-med degree."

Ian glared at him. "I told you not to write letters to dodgy people."

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. "Just because you two disagree on how to run a government doesn't mean he's a criminal."

Ian snorted. "He's a communist."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ian, the word is _communist,_ not _terrorist_. We've got a dictionary if you don't know the difference."

He heard Jack choke back a laugh from inside the living room doorway. Ian was giving him a look. "I could ground you for that comment, but I'm not going to."

Alex gave him a significant look. "Can I have my books?"

Ian flipped one open. "Can you even read these?"

Alex gave his uncle the evil eye. "Yes. If I have issues, there is a nice Russian-English dictionary you just happen to own."

Ian sighed. "I really wish you would involve me in your life a bit more."

Alex grabbed the book out of Ian's hands with a little more force than strictly necessary. "That ship sailed after you missed my birthday twice in a row while I was standing right next to you."

Alex stared at the pile. "That really is a ludicrous number of books."

And then he left Ian standing in the doorway. It was time to review the footage.

* * *

Tom was home already. His best friend immediately popped up on the stairs. "So, did you get it?"

Alex felt a rueful little smile appear on his face. "We'll see."

Tom was practically bouncing in his chair as Alex uploaded the humongous number of pictures. It didn't help that he had shot quite a few at the gemstone exhibit. "You went to a museum?!"

Alex gave Tom an amused look. "Well, I occasionally like going to them. They had giant diamonds and Fabergé eggs, Tom."

Tom just gave him a look. "You're a hopeless nerd, Alex. We'll have to take you to an arcade for an exorcism of the Study Demon."

Alex burst out laughing. Tom pulled him in for a hug. Alex could barely stop laughing long enough to return it. Tom was giving him a concerned look. "Erm. I'm not that funny, Alex."

Alex felt his sides begin to ache. He took a few deep breaths. "I love you, Tom."

Tom looked at him and there was a slight pause. "I love you, too."

Alex gave his friend a soft look. "Will you tell me all your secrets now?"

Tom looked so hopeful that Alex snorted. "No, Tom, but one day, when we're older, I'll tell you all my secrets and we'll be a _real_ family. You'll see, I promise."

Alex was determined that Tom would _actually_ live this time and would, _in fact_ , see. Tom was hovering behind him as the computer slowly dragged itself through downloading his pictures. "I'm bored, Alex."

Alex rolled his eyes. He sometimes suspected Tom might have ADHD. Or maybe he was just getting mentally old. "What do you want to do, Tom?"

Tom gave him a look that would be mildly impish one anybody else but set off every mischief alarm Alex had. "Can I rub the fact that you saw the British Supreme Exhibit for Supernerds on opening day without him in Ian's face?"

Alex glared at Tom. "Be nice, Tom."

Tom lounged on Alex's bed, next to Fenrir. "But it'll make him so irritated, Alex."

Alex sighed. "Toom."

Tom gave him a look. "Alex. Please. He doesn't deserve you. Pretty, please."

It took a lot out of him not to cave immediately at Tom's soft pleading eyes. "No."

Tom pouted. "But, Alex-"

Alex gave Tom a look that quelled any protest. "Fiiiine."

Alex felt his lips twitch. He'd missed Tom after he died. There was no real replacement for your best friend, he supposed. Tom was now up and about again. "Will you write a paper for me?"

Alex turned. "When was this paper assigned?"

Tom shrugged. "I dunno, like, three weeks ago."

Alex was well aware of Tom's study habits. "Mmmhmm. When did you write the first sentence of your draft?"

Tom gave him a deceptively innocent look. "What draft? There were no drafts due."

Alex sighed. "No. But I'll help you finish it."

Tom cheered. "Alex, you are a wonderful human being."

Alex was doing his best not to cackle. "No, I'm not. Let's get this paper party started."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I wouldn't call it a party by any stretch of the imagination."

* * *

After the pictures finally downloaded, Tom hovered over his head. "Aren't you still not done with your paper?"

Tom huffed. "Screw the paper. This is more important."

Alex shook his head. "Tom, your education is important."

Tom placed his head on top of Alex's. "I feel like only you and Jack actually care."

Alex sighed. "Tooom."

Tom ignored him in favor of scrutinizing the monitor. "Score!"

Alex glanced at the photos. "Yep."

Tom hovering. "So, what are we doing now?"

Alex stretched. "You will finish your paper. I will go walk Fenrir to Mandy's house."

Tom pouted. "Killjoy."

Alex chuckled and hit the download button for the photos. He had been a little miffed at the price of computer storage. In a few years, it would be far cheaper for far more storage space. "I'm going to haul all my books up first."

Tom looked at him. "How did you get away with ordering so many?"

Alex snorted. "I didn't. You remember that Russian guy I told you about?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Duh. I'm not a super genius, but my memory is fine."

Alex smirked. "Well, he sent me books."

Tom started laughing. "Damn, I'm tempted to start a club with him to annoy Ian. I'll bet he's a professional in passive-aggressive."

Alex laughed. "You can check out his politics in the old newspapers. He's kind of a political shark."

Alex had actually found the articles by accident. He was researching for a school project and had stumbled onto them. Sarov had been interesting to study posthumously, even if it had been hard to choke out the whole "he went insane with grief and committed suicide near an old communist ship" line. Alex wasn't sure what streak of masochism had led him to do Sarov as a project when he could have chosen any other politician or wealthy Russian. It had been kind of fun to read. Sort of. The teacher had been batshit crazy enough to "understand completely" when Alex had choked up. This was the same woman who talked about Benjamin Franklin as "Benny" and George Washington as "charming ol' George". It was kind of amusing, although he had doubts as to her sanity. She had been pretty nice to him, despite his abysmal marks in some of his other classes at the American school. Mrs. Linsey had even let him read from her own personal library. Alex had actually enjoyed some of her history books and history wasn't normally his cup of tea. The notes on his report had been particularly fun to read when Edward gave them to him. Apparently, he was "a charming sensitive boy" who "didn't deserve his social troubles". Alex had laughed at that one but had silently given her a nice chocolate collection before he wandered off for the last time. She had just looked at it in shock before thanking him. Tom's voice brought him back to the present. "Alex?"

Alex's eyes flicked to Tom. "Yes?"

Tom was looking at him almost fearfully. "Are you okay?"

Alex sighed. "Yes, Tom. Never been better."

Tom didn't look at all reassured. "Alex? What's really going on?"

Alex really wanted to tell him everything. He hadn't realized how lonely the secrets made him.

* * *

Tom watched as Alex's eyes searched for something in him. He could only hope Alex would find whatever it was. "Are you sure you really want to know?"

Tom glared at him. "Always."

Alex looked torn between laughing and crying. "Give me a minute."

There was a pause and Alex looked far away. Sure, he was there, but not really. Alex snapped back to reality. Tom looked at him. His best friend took a deep breath. "It'll be better if I can just show you, but I had to ask for permission."

Tom looked puzzled. "Permission? From who? From what?"

Alex tilted his head. "Look into my eyes and hold my hand."

Tom did. There was a faint green tinge around Alex, especially his eyes. Then, the brown eyes suddenly glowed green. Tom felt a jolt. Then, he was standing in a garden. It was made of jewels and his house was burning in the distance without the rest of his surroundings. "What is this place?"

Alex was beside him. "My mind."

Tom looked at his friend in shock. "I'm not the Alex you know, not really. I'm actually mentally eighteen. I came back because...because I had a chance...and because everyone died."

Tom started. "How? Why?"

Alex smiled grimly. "Why don't I show you? It all started when we were both fourteen and Ian died."

Tom's mouth fell open in horror. God, that sounded horrible. Alex offered him a hand. "Was I…? Did I…?"

Alex gave him a smile, but it looked like he was in pain while giving it. "You were the best friend anyone could ever have asked for."

Tom took his hand. "Then let's get this shitshow on the road. I'll never leave you."

Alex's hand tightened for a second on his. "I love you too, Tom."

Tom turned toward his burning home. They walked toward it together.

* * *

It was a few hours before Alex brought them both out of memory lane. Alex had given Tom the broad strokes of his old life, including all the murder he'd committed as revenge, but left out some of the newer stuff. Maybe it was unfair to dump all of this on a twelve-year-old, but Alex was running low on options for trustworthy people. Tom was gasping for breath. Alex had tried to "fast-forward" as much of the gore as he could. He hoped Tom hadn't seen too much. Tom had tried to strenuously object, but Alex had overridden that objection quite well. His best friend was not calming down that well. Alex put a hand on his shoulder. "Are we still okay?"

Tom whacked him upside the head and then hugged him while bursting into tears. "Of course, you utter idiot."

Alex would be lying if he didn't say that he was relieved. It was probably horribly selfish, but he didn't care. He had Tom, his best friend, back. Or something close enough. Alex was glad. He felt less heavy, albeit a little guilty for being responsible for Tom having an emotional breakdown. "You know, you can stop being my friend if this is too much."

Tom whacked him again. He seemed to be evening out. "No way in hell, dumbass. You're the first person besides myself I've ever cried for."

Alex buried his face in Tom's hair. Ian picked that exact moment to barge in. Alex occasionally wanted to murder his uncle. "Umm, what's wrong?"

Alex glared over Tom's head. "First break-up, now fuck-off."

Ian took one look at him and Tom and walked out of there. When the door shut, Tom started laughing. "What's so funny?"

Tom swiped at his eyes and Alex grabbed the tissues off his desk and forked them over to Tom. "Ian is _really_ useless as a parent."

Alex shook his head but was not about to admit to it. There may or may not have been a rueful sort of grin on his face. "Yes, Tom, and the sky is blue."

Tom looked at him in shock. "You mean...you know?"

Alex laughed. "Yeah, I pretty much figured it out last time and this version of Ian is even less responsible. I just defend him because he's pretty much the sanest family member I've got left. I will deny ever saying this until the day I die, but, yes, I know he's terrible. It's okay, though. It's all okay, Tom, I can deal with this. I just tried to get you better parents this time because you were the closest thing I had to a brother. You still are, really."

Tom just stared at him. And then started laughing. Alex was a little concerned about his sanity at the moment. "You know."

Tom gasped out the phrase in between laughs. "Are you okay, Tom?"

Tom shook his head and gestured at the ceiling. "All this and he asks if _I'm_ okay. I'm fine Alex."

Alex hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Yes, now go get your books before Ian decides to set them on fire while you're distracted."

Alex snorted. Ian was petty, but that would be a whole new level of petty. "If you insist."

He went down the stairs and began hauling his books up.

* * *

Ian paused him about halfway through bringing his books. "So, uh, is Tom going to be okay?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, Ian."

Jack took that moment to jump in. "What does he mean, is Tom going to be okay?"

Alex shrugged and leaned his books against the banister of the stairs. "Ian caught me comforting Tom after his first break-up. Don't worry, he stopped crying now."

Jack seemed to puff up with her next inhale. "IAN RIDER! You left a CRYING CHILD ALONE!"

Ian looked a little dumbstruck. "I didn't know what to do. Besides, he had Alex. I'm fine with just John comforting me all the time."

Fail, Ian. You fail. Alex thought Jack's fire-red hair was quite fitting sometimes. Alex just grabbed his books and ran up the stairs around the two of them. He was not eager for the coming storm. He began to rush through the task. Taking the stairs two at a time was a really understated skill, you know. Alex caught snippets of the argument he was doing his best to tune out. "They'll learn to be self-soothing."

Alex let the thump of his textbooks cut off the first part of Jack's reply. "...a sign of emotional neglect. Did you _even_ _read_ any parenting books?!"

Alex took a deep breath. Tom was eyeing him with a hint of concern. "You sure you don't want to go with my running away idea?"

Alex huffed. Oh, Tom. "Take your GCSEs and then we'll talk."

Tom pouted at Alex. "At least you're considering it."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Don't you have an essay due?"

Tom shook his head. "Sometimes, Alex, I worry you got the importance of education drilled into you a little bit too hard."

Fenrir's leash was beside Alex's door. The minute Alex grabbed it, the wolf woke up and jumped off the bed. The leash easily latched into the collar slot. Tom just looked at them both. "Can I come with you?"

Alex decided to let Tom make his own choices. "If you want, but it'll cost you about an hour of homework time."

Tom grabbed his jacket off of Alex's chair. "Some things are more important."

Alex paused. "Wash your face first."

Tom did the quickest face wash in the history of washing, but Alex let it go. Next, he grabbed a backpack. Tom gaped as he pulled an entire section of the wall away to reveal a bunch of steel boxes. The one labeled "Explosives" was opened and Alex jammed in enough to level several houses before closing the box and replacing the wall. "Got the pictures?"

Tom grinned. "Yeah, let's go."

* * *

Mandy, of course, was not about to let them get back at any kind of reasonable time. Alex was suddenly glad he had forgotten to leave a note again. What a shame. Ian would just have to wring his hands and worry. Alex wondered if it was taking petty a little too far. Tom hadn't thought of leaving a note either. "So, you got the pictures."

Alex gestured at Tom. "So, Alex decided to concoct a story that involves my first break-up and Ian, so if you could spread it around that would be great."

Alex ran his hands through his hair. "It was the first thing that came to mind Tom, besides it got Ian out of there, now didn't it?"

Mandy looked between the two of them. "Why did Ian leave you two alone when one of you was crying?"

Alex shrugged. "Well, it wasn't an important crying fit, so he probably figured it was fine."

Mandy muttered something about emotional abuse under her breath and let them in. Mandy cooed over Fenrir. "He's so pretty."

Alex pets his wolf. "Yeah, I've had him for almost two years now. I got him as a puppy."

Mandy pet Fenrir some more. "Feel free to bring him by more often."

Fenrir was eyeing her with a mix of apprehension and amusement. Alex was glad his baby was very well-behaved sometimes. Mandy straight-up hugged his pet. "So cute. I wish I had a dog, but mum wouldn't stand for it. Too much mess."

Alex ruffled Fenrir's fur. "Oh yeah, especially the sock-chewing phase, you know."

Tom interrupted them. "Guys, pictures. Drug dealer. Explosives."

They both returned to the present. "Right."

Alex handed over his homemade explosives. "Here you go. Are you sure you guys don't want any help?"

Mandy gave him an amused look. "You've done more than enough. We're good. Do you two want to watch TV or something?"

Tom gave her an innocent look. "Do they have any shows on bad parenting?"

Alex internally cringed but refused to show any change in expression. This was going to be a long night.

* * *

It was about one in the morning by the time he and Tom got back. Jack wasn't in the living room, but Ian was. "Where were you three?"

Alex let Fenrir off the leash. "Did you check the answering machine? Mrs. Teller left you a message that we were going to be late."

Ian looked awkwardly at them. "Erm, no."

Alex sighed. "Next time, do that."

Ian sighed. "Sorry, I just worry, you know. I guess that's why Jack went to bed."

Alex Rider occasionally questioned Ian's sanity. "Yes, that's probably it."

Alex's tone contained the faintest hint of dryness. Tom was looking between them. "Tom, you might want to go to bed."

His friend glared at him. "No. I have to face my fear of conflict eventually. I'm not leaving you alone anymore."

Ian looked shocked. Alex knew better than to argue with that expression. "Okay. You do have school tomorrow, though."

Ian just looked between them. "Tom, I want to speak to Alex alone."

Tom snapped at that. "Why? So, you can beat him like the rest of his relatives?! How about no? Does no work for you?"

Ian looked like he'd been slapped. "What?!"

Tom was on a roll now. "Oh, good, you're just an oblivious fuck, not an abusive fuck. For the record, you need to keep Alex far, far away from the rest of his abusive asshole relatives."

Tom got up and went up the stairs after that. Alex winced at the door slam. Ian was giving him an incredulous look. "What is Tom talking about?"

Alex gave Ian the look he usually reserved for the class dumbass. "Think, Ian, what do the cuts and bruises from weapons training usually look like to outsiders?"

Ian thought for a minute. "Umm. Defensive wounds?"

Alex was trying to rein in the sarcasm. It was kind of hard, actually. "Yes, Ian. What do people normally think when they see defensive wounds on children?"

Ian looked startled. "Call Social - oh."

Alex resisted the eyeroll, but it was hard. "Yes, Ian. That's what Tom was 'going on' about."

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "Right. Well, we can't tell him anything because he's not officially adopted or a blood relative."

Alex gave Ian the evil eye. "Right. I'm just going to go to bed before I give in to my sudden and inexplicable urge to deck you."

Ian waited until he left, but Alex was pretty sure he made the man groan. Alex was also pretty sure he heard the man mutter something about knowing Patrick was a bad idea and how he should have just gone on the run from the man like they had done when Alex was younger. It explained a lot, Alex mused. There was no way Ian could have wanted to move around that much. The packing had probably been hell, not to mention the paperwork to enroll him in school and language lessons. Alex rubbed his eyes. It was time to go to bed. Two days before his grand heist and counting. He hoped Brendan Chase paid well. This was a pain in the ass to plan and get away unseen from. But then, that was probably a point.


	56. Flame on

Alex lingered at the back door to Mandy's house. Tom would cover for him. It was nice to have his friend back. Alex just hoped Tom wouldn't get too mad at him for this. There was no guarantee that Tom would end up sharing his moral code. Alex knew that he wasn't always the easiest or nicest person to be friends with. He took a deep breath and went out the back door. His gear was back at the house, but Alex had already taken the initiative to scope out cars to "borrow". The hardest part would be breaking into his own house with Ian and Crawley home. Those two weren't top agents in MI6 for nothing. Ian had killer senses. Luckily, when he got there Ian did not seem to be at his window. Alex slipped into his house and disabled the alarm with a pass-code. He silently walked towards Ian's office, careful not to hit any of the creaky spots on the stairs. Alex felt a faint pang of guilt but quickly tamped it down. It wasn't like he was planning on killing anybody. Besides, Ian had been going behind his back for years, if Alex's recollection and certain assumptions about certain events were correct. Sure, some of the people Ian had gotten kicked out if England weren't the best people to be hanging around, but Alex figured that his pyromaniac friend from state-mandated therapy was probably retraumatized by being forcibly relocated to America with his entire identity erased and replaced with somebody that was not him. Alex had been pretty furious with Ian after reading the man's account of the events that transpired two years after the man's death. Getting into Ian's computer had been easier back in the day. Alex wondered where Michael was these days. Probably still burning down buildings. Alex fondly recalled one of his first friends while running his hands over the equipment he planned to use to set his stolen car on fire. It had been Michael who taught him how to set anything on fire, even water. The older boy's eyes had reminded him of a blue flame. Sometimes of lakes, but mostly the fire in his soul. Alex had put his stuff into several bags that were neatly labeled. Thankfully, the house had so many travel bags Ian would know these were temporarily missing unless he sat down and actually counted them all.

* * *

The plan had been under formation for some time. Even at his sixteen-year-old, post killing his Malagosto classmates' hand-to-hand combat level, there was no way on earth he was going to be able to take down seven grown men by himself _in a fair fight_. Now, at twelve, he was at an even worse disadvantage. It was beside the point anyway. Alex was used to taking down his enemies with traps, not outright fighting, if at all possible. The first stage would be taking down the guards. Alex had deliberately picked the time of night when everybody but they were gone from the facility, but early enough that they would all come out to investigate if something was fishy. There was a trick to trapping people. If you made the "lure" to fast, they would run away. The "lure" in this case happened to be a flaming car. Alex had attached a flechette canister to the car that would be conveniently hidden by a giant fireball. The darts contained a very strong drug to knock out people. It had taken Alex an irritatingly long time to find a coating that wouldn't get denatured automatically by the heat. Oh well, he had found one eventually. Next was actually carrying out his plan. Alex had deliberately picked the sniper's car in hopes that the man would also come to investigate and get snared. He opened the hood with gloved hands and deliberately sliced the wires the way Ian had taught him. Next, he carefully placed the canister with his darts and glue on the car. There was no need to open the gate since he was already on the property. Alex waited a few seconds for the glue to dry enough and then took out the rest of his distraction gear. The storage for the flaming medium hadn't been that hard to find. Napalm was not that hard to make either. Ian had actually taught him that one. He was pretty sure this wasn't what the man had in mind for it. Alex glued that on the car as well. He had been surprised to find out that superglue was actually flammable, but he had done some rough calculations and he figured that it would last just long enough for his purposes. Plus, he couldn't really afford to do metalwork with all the noise it created, now could he? Alex waited for the glue to set and waited a few more minutes. He was still short enough that the car concealed him. Next, he had to start the car and the flames at roughly the same time. Alex lightly lowered the weight onto the gas pedal of the still-off car. Then he started the engine, flicked a match at the fireball, and dropped to the ground as he sent the car rolling towards the lab. Alex used the giant flare to get behind cover. He watched from behind the very convenient tree line. It didn't take long. There were five men approaching the car. Damn. All seven had probably been too optimistic. Oh, well. Alex had the second part of his plan in place for a reason.

* * *

He moved quietly enough in the shadows not to draw the attention of the other men, who were still slowly approaching the flaming car. Alex heard a thud. "What the hell?!"

Well, shit. The glue denatured faster than he thought. In a stroke of undeniable luck, the canister fell and rolled under the car before releasing. If this had been a SCORPIA compound, he would have been screwed. In SCORPIA, they wore full body armor. Unfortunately for MI6, these guards only had Kevlar on their chests and the darts exploded from the canister under the car, piercing both cloth and flesh. Alex heard the simultaneous pop of all four tires shredding and the screech of the darts that embedded themselves in the underbelly of the car. Alex hoped their legs weren't too shredded. They all fell to the ground, out cold. Alex winced. Maybe he should have thought this out a bit more. The human skull could be surprisingly fragile. Alex hoped that all attention was directed at the five guards and went back to screwing the gas canisters to the air vents. Now, normally, the vents would only go outward, but Alex had planned for that too. The gas mixture he used was far heavier than oxygen and the canisters were specially engineered to override the direct airflow. It would cause significant and very unsubtle damage to the vent system, but Alex figured that burning the place down was about as unsubtle as it got. One of his charming relatives had invented these. Alex was pretty sure they had been used for poisonous gas. Alex glanced at the now-out flames. The other two guards hadn't come out. Then, he flicked the on switch for all of them. "Maddox, release the snow leopard. Try to keep it away from me and, once it gets out, make sure animal services finds it."

Alex felt the buzz of his phone and figured it was Maddox giving him a reply. As much as Alex wanted a snow leopard, he would admit to not being prepared to handle a fully-grown one. The rest of the animals already had new homes set up in the basement. Alex just prayed the fish would survive the somewhat rough trip. The third and fourth bag were on his back. On was for the animals. The other was explosives. Alex slid his gas mask on and then got out his break-in gear. The explosives were less flashy than the ones he'd used earlier. Alex made a decent sized loop and then stepped back to detonate the explosives. The wall blew inward and would shower anyone behind it in debris. He was in.

* * *

The gas mask was unpleasant but would become necessary quite soon. Alex shouldered the backpack and put in a makeshift earpiece. He hadn't had the time or the skill in engineering (yet) to recreate the modern ones that had been useful. This one was basically regulated to beeps that Maddox could send and Morse code. One for human enemies. Two for the door his objectives were behind. Three for trouble in general. Morse for complicated shit. It wasn't the best of systems, but it would do for now. Alex drew his weapon, just in case. The riskiest part of the entire operation would be retrieving the animals and plant matter. The gas was quickly obscuring the place and its cameras. Alex knew Maddox would erase the footage and all of its copies as it was being made. He would not take the chance of someone being able to recognize him. Alex slowly walked through the facility as gas began to obscure his vision. He knew the way by heart. The way to the plant lab was met with no resistance. Alex slid his own version of Smithers' device onto the door lock. There was a fizzing as acid chewed through the door lock. Alex hadn't dared use explosives. The gas he was currently flooding the place reacted badly to fire in any quantities. It wouldn't explode, per se, but it conducted heat a little too well for Alex to risk it. Alex pushed the door with a hole in it open. The moss was sitting innocuously in a terrarium. Alex took out a jar with a slim tool that was better at collecting moss than a standard combat knife. He made sure to get a good amount of sticky medium, hopefully, it would keep the plant alive long enough to survive express mail. Alex carefully stashed the jar back in his back. He heard a beep. Well, shit. He'd have thought the guards would be down by now. Alex eyed the plant knife. Alex didn't have a clue if damaging some of the moss would make the poison lethal. There was a single beep followed by two more. Person behind the door. Without further ado, Alex walked to the door and stabbed outward. The blood immediately flooded outward on the man's pant leg, the stain rapidly expanding. He didn't normally aim for lethal strikes, but this man had seen him and he really didn't want an eyewitness for either SCORPIA or Ian to find. Alex took a shaky breath and then stepped over the man's corpse. He glanced around, the gas almost totally obscuring his view and carefully pulled the tool out of the man's leg. The blood beaded up instantly and began contributing to the pool even faster than it had been. Alex gagged a little bit, but stowed the tool and made a mental note to burn or sterilize the evidence later. Now it was time for the animals.

* * *

Alex did not encounter the final guard on his way to the animal storage, for which he was very grateful. On the way had been the center for the facility. Alex had carefully laid the explosives for an implosion. The forest around him and anyone potentially in the woods would thank him for it. Besides, if he had created his bombs correctly, even the people in the parking lot would experience no further harm (well, maybe hearing loss). It was almost too easy. Then again, he was used to no plan, no blueprints, and no weapons, so there was that. Not to mention, he had assassinated the good majority of SCORPIA's executive board almost entirely single-handedly in his last year of life. And his teachers. And most of his classmates. _That_ had taken planning and dedication. Alex walked through the steam-like mist. It would fill this part of the compound last because of the animals. Alex hadn't wanted to accidentally kill them. The Kevlar gloves slid on easily. The snakes were the easiest. Even if they tried to bite him, they wouldn't be able to puncture the gloves, and they were short because they were barely a year old. They were kind of pretty. Neither one even tried to bite him. Alex placed them in the hard-plastic tank and moved on to the scorpion. He was careful not to crush it. The gloves, he kept on - the antivenom of most animals was nearly as toxic as what it was meant to cure. Alex had been careful to lock all the cages, too. An escaped venomous animal would not be fun to explain to his friends or Ian. Next was the fish. Alex quickly shed his gloves into the bag and carefully laid the modified plastic tank down for the fish. The tiny glowing fish were pretty. Alex really hoped they survived the journey. He had brought a fishnet. Alex scooped up the fish and plopped them into their new temporary tank. The top was pressed down and the tank sealed shut with a faint click. Alex locked the final cage and placed it in his bag. They were configured so that the fish would get jostled the least. Alex put the bag on his shoulder and checked his watch. There was still a good fifteen minutes before the place would come down like a ton of bricks. Alex made his way toward the wall he intended to exit through. The last guard had still not shown up. Alex wondered if the man had been knocked out by the gas or was waiting in ambush somewhere. He could only hope the man survived the building implosion but was not about to risk being spotted and leaving a witness by checking on him. Besides, these guys knew what they signed up for, guarding a classified lab and all. Alex carefully set up the explosive on the wall. This time, it would explode outward. The debris would, of course, be mostly away from him. He stood back and pushed the button while closing his eyes and covering his ears. Fortunately, there was no ringing this time, but Alex mentally added earplugs to his list of supplies. Alex peeked around a still smoldering edge before exiting the building and walking towards the parking lot. It was still dark, and so far, there were no flames to illuminate his path. Alex made sure to stay by cover whenever possible, just in case.

* * *

The walk to the car concluded uneventfully. Alex let a faint feeling of relief wash over him as he strapped his bags in the backseat of the car. It could have gone worse. Now he just needed to get back the Mandy's without arousing too much suspicion. Plus, set the car on fire. He was pretty sure nobody would question his extra stuff. Alex took off the gas mask and put the car in drive. He glanced at the clock. It was six minutes until the implosion. Alex didn't waste much time getting out of there. After the first few empty roads, Alex stuck to the traffic laws. It would draw more attention not to. There were no police out and no sudden stops at this time of night. After he got close enough to Mandy's house, he pulled out his last round of explosives - also delayed detonation - and placed them in the car. Alex shouldered his bags and wiped the sweat from his forehead. Even with AC, he was dying in the three layers of clothes he was wearing. Alex grinned to himself. James and Mandy were going to be so pleased with James' new pets. Alex grinned and then broke into the (unlocked, but gated) backyard and knocked on the screen door. It was promptly jerked open by Tom. "Did you do it?"

Alex gave Tom a mischievous look. The final wave of adrenaline was hitting. "Yep."

Tom backed up a bit. "You're a little scary, you know that, right? Awesome, but scary."

Alex smirked. "Why don't you peak in the bag while I shower and change?"

Thankfully, the blood wasn't showing on the black he was wearing. Alex had put the jar in the other bag with his clothes and tools so Tom wouldn't be in danger of discovering. Tom looked at the bag Alex handed him with a mix of glee and apprehension. Alex locked the bathroom door and began to run the shower. He decided to shower with his clothes on to get the blood out. First cold water, strip, and bag, and then he'd shower for real. "Maddox?"

His phone answered him back. "Footage erased. Large cat apprehended. Facility imploded. Car is a molten slag heap. Anything else?"

Alex sighed and winced as he stepped into the cold water and began to scrub. "Keep me updated on the guards' condition."

The phone paused. "Are you sure, Master?"

Alex paused as the water finally ran clear. "Yes."

He turned the temperature dial up to warm and pulled his clothes off into a plastic bag. Thankfully, he had packed other clothing. He finished his shower and pulled out the bloody tool. It made a quick trip to the sink. Alex doubted anybody would question bloodstains in the sink and bathtub in a house with women if they got as far as checking the place with a blacklight.

* * *

Alex stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed about twenty minutes after he went in. "Alex."

Alex looked at Tom. "Want to introduce James to his new snakes?"

Tom bit his lip. "I kind of already did."

Alex laughed. He loved Tom. "How did it go?"

Tom looked at Alex. "I think he's going to start sleeping with them, Al."

Alex snorted. "Well, how are the others taking it?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "Mandy's so jealous. They're in the living room."

Alex went with Tom, careful to take his backpack with him. "So, how are the pets settling in."

Mandy gave Alex a playful glare. "You went pet shopping without us?!"

The rest of the animals were also laid out on the floor. Alex raised an eyebrow. "I wasn't aware that James' super late birthday present was your business."

Mandy made a noise that was somewhere between a moan and a gasp. Alex just rolled his eyes. James was currently curled around his new snakes in a very serpent-like fashion. "These are beauties, Al."

Alex ruffled his friend's hair. "Yeah, they're mildly poisonous, so learn your stuff, okay."

Gillian was currently cooing over the bioluminescent fish with Nigel. Alex felt his heart soften in his chest. "Do you two want them?"

Gillian looked up at him. "Really?"

Alex gave her a sheepish grin. "Yeah. There will be more of them soon. Plus, I'm away a lot and I hate to just dump more pets on Jack. I kind of just spontaneously rescued these guys from bad owners. I can get you the habitats tomorrow at my house if you want."

Gillian tapped the tank and the fish followed her finger. "No, I'll take care of it myself. Nigel can feed them during the day and set up the pump."

Adrian was looking at the scorpion with apprehension. "You don't see those on pet rescue ads a lot."

Alex shrugged. "Well, it's not exactly cute and fluffy."

Alex picked it up. "Don't worry. Ugly has a nice tank set up for it. I've got stuff for the snakes if you want it, James."

James shrugged. "Sounds good to me."

Alex stretched out on the couch. He was kind of tired. Mandy glanced at him. "Bed, Alex."

Alex blinked. "Fine."

He went upstairs and pretty much passed out the second he hit the covers.

* * *

Mandy glared at Tom. "You said he was safe."

Tom sighed. "He was safe. Alex safe."

Mandy groaned. "I swear to god, I am putting a collar on him when we go to Russia."

Tom laughed at the mental image of a very sulky Alex wearing a cat collar. Mandy huffed. "I'm serious."

Tom continued laughing. "You'd have to catch his ass first and Alex is _fast_. Like really fast."

Plus, Alex was probably stronger than Mandy, given the fact that Tom knew he exercised four to six hours a day. Tom would admit to admiring his friend's build and fitness more than a few times. Tom was tempted to ask to join Alex, but it seemed almost private or forbidden. Sure, Alex would probably say yes, but Tom knew Alex was one to need his alone time. Tom loved barging into Alex's life, but he knew Alex had his limits. Plus, there was that whole mental trip Alex had taken them. _You were the best friend anyone could ever ask for_. Tom felt himself melt a bit at the memory. It was the closest thing to "I love you" anyone had ever told him. Mandy continued to grumble under her breath. "Why didn't he tell any of us?"

Tom shrugged. "That's just how Alex is sometimes."

Mandy sighed. "Really? What were the two of you like when you met?"

Tom remembered that day all too well. The flash of blond hair in the light as Alex had gone off to face the school bullies. Tom had been pretty sure Alex was an angel that day. Or a really, really nice Satan. That opinion had been quickly revised after they had started pranking people. "Wild. And free."

James shrugged. "He's not wrong. You should have seen our wrestling matches."

Tom looked hopefully at James. "No, Tom. We broke furniture last time, remember?"

Tom's lips twisted into a pout. "Awww."

Mandy rolled her eyes. "Boys."

Adrian seemed grotesquely amused at the scene. "What? A bit of fighting never killed anybody."

Mandy just shook her head. "This is why men live five years less on average than women."

Tom shrugged. The years he had so far spent with Alex flashed before his eyes. "Worth it. Quality over quantity, you know."

Mandy threw up her hands. "I give up. Set all the fires you want."

Tom snorted with laughter. "No, that's Alex. I'm just the guy who carries the propane."

James rolled his eyes. "Yeah, I'm definitely saving up for bail."

Adrian was parked at the door frame. The man was nearing nineteen and it definitely showed. Tom glanced at the bulk. He wasn't that big but compared to the rest of the school filled with mostly kids...Tom shook his head. "Do you think Alex might go for men?"

Tom was snapped out of his reverie by James' question. "Honestly, I have no clue, James. He doesn't seem to like anyone we see."

James shrugged. "Oh, come on. He occasionally dresses up as a woman for fun."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Most of that was drama class. Don't stereotype, James."

James pouted. "Aww. You must have some idea."

Tom shook his head. "Nope. Maybe he just doesn't like people like that yet, James, not everybody starts liking people at the same time, you know."

James huffed. "Why did it have to be Meagan? I don't even like her enough to be in the same room for more than fifteen minutes with her."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, Alex has a plan."

James perked up. "Really?"

Tom shrugged. "Yep."

James leaned back, still cradling his new pets. "I feel much better now."

Mrs. Teller poked her head in, thankfully not noticing their new pets. "Bed. The lot of you."

Everybody got up. Tom grabbed the scorpion. The things he did for Alex. Tom quietly opened the door and placed the scorpion. Alex woke up anyway. Shoot! "What do you want?"

Tom looked at the creepy-ass scorpion again and decided Alex was getting a new bed buddy. "That scorpion is creeping me the fuck out. Can I stay please?"

Alex just sort of shrugged. Tom took that as a yes and slid next to his best friend in bed. It was nice and warm.

* * *

Alex woke up with Tom snuggled next to him and smiled softly. Maybe his best friend would have a better choice of dates this time around. Last time, Tom had started dating bitter old divorcees of both genders. They had been old enough to be his parents. Alex shuddered slightly. Most of them hadn't even been that good looking. Alex might understand if they were divorced and looked like, well, Yassen or Rothman, but that lot certainly hadn't. Maybe he could just set Tom's standards higher or something? Alex might have to ask Jack about it. He wasn't really sure how to. There weren't a whole lot of books on how to parent one's same-age best friend. Alex sighed and got out of bed. It was time to get dressed. Alex was suddenly struck by an idea. "Hey, Tom, do you want to go to Paris?"

That got Tom up pretty fast. "Uh, sure. When?"

Alex grinned. "In about a week or two."

With the money he had now, Alex could afford quite a bit. "Weren't you just worried about my grades in school?"

Alex gave Tom a grin. "One little week for Spring Hols traveling instead of studying won't kill them. I promise."

Tom had forgotten they had a week-long holiday for Easter, to be honest. Damn, he was turning into Alex at this rate. "Is Ian going to be okay with this?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Tom. "Since when do I need his permission for shit?"

Tom gave Alex a smirk. Then frowned. "You should probably still ask, though. Is this just going to be the two of us?"

Alex looked at Tom. "Well, yeah. I might bring Jack, but I'd get her a separate room because she's a woman and all."

Tom shrugged. "You should invite Jack."

Alex finished getting dressed and turned around. Tom sighed. "Maybe let Ian know."

Alex huffed. "If I do that he's going to hijack my trip, Tom."

Tom rolled out of bed and got his clothes. "Naw, just tell him you want a real vacation for once and none of that hiking through the Alps bullshit."

Alex paused. "That's actually not a bad idea."

Tom gave Alex a playfully indignant look. "I do occasionally have them."

Alex gave Tom the smile he usually reserved for successful pranks. "Yes."

Tom felt something stutter in his chest and restart. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I like sports as much as the next bloke, but Ian's a little intense."

Alex wondered what Tom would say on one of their survival trips. Probably a lot of unflattering things about Ian's intelligence. Up to a certain point, camping was fun. After that, it was just a shit ton of extra work. Tom was getting dressed. Alex was triple-checking his bags to make sure he hadn't forgotten anything. Tom rolled his eyes. "Come on, Alex, there's _bacon_."

Alex grabbed his bag of bags. The extra ones had all been crumpled shoved into his duffel. The backpack had gone in pretty easy, too. The scorpion had been shoved in next to it. "Hey, Tom, any chance you'll take care of the scorpion while I'm gone if I keep it?"

Tom took a deep breath, looked at Alex's pleading expression, gritted his teeth, and sigh. "Fine."

Only Alex would get Tom to feed his creepy-ass pets. Tom wondered if caving like wet cardboard was a bad sign and then decided he didn't care. Alex was letting him touch his precious pets. That had to mean something, right? He followed the blond downstairs for breakfast. Ian was, of course, as unfashionably early as always.

* * *

Alex saw dropped his stuff near the door. Ian was turning down breakfast for the millionth time from Mrs. Teller. Ian looked relieved at seeing him. Hmm. Maybe the break-in had already made the news. Sure enough, a giant imploded wreck was showing on the television. Alex made sure to gawk appropriately. "Huh. Wonder who'd want to attack a lab. I'd have gone for the gold in the Bank of England, personally speaking."

Mrs. Teller gave him an amused look. "Some people just don't have common sense."

Ian just looked at him. "What? Gold is shiny."

Ian just shook his head. It took Alex a second to realize his uncle was laughing internally. Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Considering the way the man had eyed the diamond exhibit at the Hermitage, Alex figured Ian had no room to really talk. "Alright, time to go."

Alex was sad he couldn't get a third plate, but he probably didn't need it, nutritionally speaking. Ian seemed more impatient than usual. Alex couldn't really blame the man. A national lab nearby had been attacked SCORPIA-style. Ian drove as safely as always, but Alex could tell he was extra tense. "What's wrong?"

Ian's hands tightened almost infinitesimally on the steering wheel. "I'll tell you once we get back. In my office."

Tom was silent the whole way as if sensing that questions would not be appreciated in this context. Fenrir greeted Alex at the door. Ian paused and then let Alex feed his pet while hovering at his side. Jack wasn't even properly up yet. Alex brushed his teeth. He had a sinking suspicion that this would take a while. Alex plopped himself down in one of Ian's many office chairs. "So, what's up?"

Ian sighed. "We're almost sure the lab attack was SCORPIA, but they haven't claimed responsibility yet."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Yet?"

Ian shrugged. "Well, they usually do, but not always. This wouldn't be the first time they stole from labs, though. Research hogs, I swear."

Alex sighed. "So why am I here?"

Ian tapped his fingers on the side of the desk. "They ditched what we think is the car near your friend's house. We're trying to see if this is deliberate or not."

Alex looked at Ian. "Won't they include that in the nasty, taunting note?"

Ian shrugged. "I mean, you're not wrong."

Ian sighed and stretched out. "Alright, what do you want?"

Ian looked at him. "Can I ask you to restrain yourself to this country?"

Alex gave Ian a look. "No."

Ian exhaled sharply. "Oh, come _on_ , Alex."

Alex sighed. "If you really want to, you can track my phone, but no."

Ian looked grumpy. "I'm getting you a subcutaneous tracker. This is getting ridiculous."

Alex gave Ian a look. "I'll just cut it out at the first available opportunity."

Ian let out a hiss. "Fine. Don't blame me when you get kidnapped."

Alex grinned. "Ian, if somebody kidnaps me, you should probably be more worried about them."

Ian shrugged. "If someone kidnaps you if you don't chop them in tiny pieces and leave them in a hole, _I will_."

Alex did his best not to roll his eyes at Ian being melodramatic. "Can I go now?"

Ian ruffled his hair. "Sure."

Alex opened the door and walked out.

* * *

Alex pet Fenrir before pulling out the backpack he normally took to Switzerland and jamming all of the evidence, the jar of moss, and the scorpion inside. Alex opened his desk drawer and pulled out some of the generic bugs he'd gotten for the thing before cracking open the box and sticking them in. Hopefully, Ugly the scorpion would eat them. Otherwise, Alex would have to try different insects and it would be a pain. Alex pulled out the snake tanks from his closet and left them and the first month of snake food on his bed. James had said he would come by later that day. Alex already had a box he'd ordered from France under another fake name ready for the package but had decided to mail it out of Switzerland with a box from France just in case. Brendan Chase had way too much money and time to waste on trying to find Alec Pierre in Alex's opinion. Stick an entire lab on analyzing the paper from his package? Why not? He had the money. Making Nile courier your letters was probably exceedingly expensive, plus it took him away from jobs he was actually qualified for. What? Was Chase hoping that Pierre would recognize the man and just walk the fuck up to him? Alex didn't know. Maybe Nile was there to play "spot the French intelligence operative" or maybe Chase was hoping Nile would just recognize something was off. Alex sighed before Sticking the flattened box and some tape into his backpack. It all barely fit and he'd have to carry his Mandarin textbook separately. Damn it. Oh, well. It wasn't like Ian didn't know what he was up to. Alex grabbed Fenrir's leash and turned around to see a fluffy grey mass already practically bouncing with excitement. "You like your walks, Fenrir."

The dog nearly shoved him over with an affectionate brush. Alex managed to hook the leash in the collar. "Are you going to behave today, dog?"

Fenrir gave him a wide-eyed look. "Sure. You gave me that look and then you dug up dead bodies."

Fenrir cocked an ear before all-but-dragging him down the stairs. "Naughty."

Fenrir huffed. "Fine. We're going."

* * *

Ian was waiting at the door. "Where are you going?"

Alex sighed. "A train trip. To Switzerland."

Ian looked very unhappy. Ian could cry him a damn river. "Please be careful."

Alex paused. "Alright then."

Ian was oddly reassured that Alex was taking Fenrir. The wolf was generally reliable while protecting Alex. Alex stepped past him out the door. Ian was tempted to follow him, but he actually had to do work that day. Tulip was actually making him do paperwork for once and Ian was really hating it. Although, going undercover as a banker for the thousandth time would not be that much more interesting. Ian was honestly preferring teaching Alex these days to his actual job. Ian sighed and then headed back upstairs. Alex, unaware of his uncle's musings, continued on to the train station. He delicately began building the setup to keep the moss alive on its' trip to Venice. It was tricky because you didn't want to dry the plant out or make it too wet. Alex presumed Chase wanted it as alive as possible. He figured a mini UV light and a water drip would do the trick. A few people eyed him while he was messing with it, but nobody actually asked what he was doing. The lid of the bottle did not want to pop into place, but it did eventually. Alex put it back in his backpack, sliding it in next to his excel spreadsheet. He'd decided to use the exact format SCORPIA taught her operatives for said report, mostly to make it easier for them to include reimbursements for his paycheck. Logistics had a reputation for making people's lives very difficult if your report got too fucked up, so Alex figured following all the guidelines was his best shot. It was pristine. Alex figured nobody could complain. He'd even checked the spelling and grammar. It was more than he'd ever done for MI6. Hey, there was always that one tightwad who would make your check late because you used the wrong grey shading on your columns or some bullshit. Originally, the sheet had just been to help him plan, but Alex figured it would make people's lives easier if he just gave them his excel sheet. See? He was nice. It was even in one of the five languages Logistics would accept without deducting fees. Alex personally thought most of them were bitchy little girls but wasn't going to say so. Alex got to the bank. Well, Chase already knew he operated out of there. Alex had a plan for the money, too. You could trace funds, after all. But not after Maddox was through with them. Alex resisted a smirk as he was left inside his vault.

* * *

Alex carefully finished constructing his box. It was tricky. From the outside, it looked like a normal cardboard box. The inside was a different story. It had a UV light and a water drip that was sealed to the jar. Alex hadn't wanted to chance anything contaminating the moss, so he had used the closest to sterile plant culture practices as he could get with an experimental form of transport. The structure was pretty good. Alex was confident the plant would survive the first-class mail journey. Alex stapled the expense report to his letter. It was in usual snarky form, but Alex felt like the letter rejection wasn't enough. On impulse, he took out a sharpie and wrote "Still Not Your Employee" on the jar. It fit, but barely. Alex wondered how the man would take the news. The letter attached was a prize of literature, in Alex's opinion.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Chase,_

_For the time and effort it took to get your moss, it better ooze pure cocaine (operational expenses attached). Have fun, hopefully too much fun where you die in a lab explosion. Where was I? Oh, yes. If you ever keep information from me again, you'll get to see firsthand the difference between seven and seventy guards (It's only a death threat if you want it to be!). Also, while I might occasionally do jobs for you, I'm still an independent contractor, just so we're very, very clear._

_The box and plant should hold up under transport. If not, well, the lab is kind of in pieces, so good luck. Kindly exercise caution when opening the box. It would be a shame if you dropped dead before I got my check. This account is fine, although you should probably use a different courier. Poor Nile, almost getting caught by the British. He'll probably appreciate the change of pace._

_On a final note, good luck tracing my payments. You'll need it with the encryption I use. And when I say good luck, I mean it. It might be fun. At any rate, I'm going on vacation. Don't expect a quick reply. I would say die in a hole, but that would be rude._

_Best Wishes,_

_Alec Pierre_

_P.S. You had better pay well. It was seven on one!_

* * *

Alex walked up to the attendant. "I presume you have first-class mail services available."

He was trying to sound a bit snooty. The man looked at him. "Of course. Where shall we send this package?"

Alex paused. "The delivery instructions are going to be a bit tedious, but they need to be followed to the letter."

The man sighed. "But of course."

SCORPIA _did_ have protocols for sending packages to the board. To be fair, Alex was pretty sure they had protocols for everything, but Alex had figured he could ignore some of the really odd, really specific ones and focus on the actually useful ones. Cough, sending mail, cough. Alex was ninety percent sure that the rule about murdering people with oranges was a joke, but he hadn't wanted to ask and risk somebody getting offended. Yassen was going to murder him if he ever got his claws on that letter, but Alex was pissed about the assignment. It had been hideously difficult to do without getting spotted or caught on camera. Plus, he still hadn't check to see who all lived through the massive amounts of destruction. "Send this. Use these instructions exactly. Don't tell them anything about who I am. Try not to drop it. It's kind of fragile and kind of lethal."

The man, to his credit, didn't react. "We know how to handle first-class mail, sir."

Alex shrugged. It would be on them if they fucked up and got shot. "Very well. Bill my account. Here are the address and instructions."

Alex left the bank at that. Fenrir was impatient on the train ride back. Alex decided to take him for a walk.

* * *

Alex stepped into the park along with his dog. To his surprise, Ian was there. Alex walked over. "I thought I might find you here."

Alex shrugged and undid the latch for Fenrir's leash. "It's Fenrir's favorite."

Ian looked amused. "And yours, too."

Alex sat next to Ian on the bench. "So, how's the paperwork?"

Ian gave him a rueful look. "Any chance I can sucker you into doing some of it?"

Alex leaned back. "If I do I want a real vacation. With Jack and Tom. You can even bring Crawley."

Ian looked at him. "I'd give you that without the paperwork, you know."

Alex grinned. "Yeah, but I want to go to Paris."

Ian considered it. "Yeah, why not?"

Alex felt a mischievous spark. "You could take Crawley to so many romantic places, you know."

Ian ruffled his hair. "Would you be okay with that, though?"

Alex shrugged. "I'll have Jack and Tom."

Ian smiled. "I'm glad you have friends."

Alex shrugged. "Can I show Tom some of the nicer parts of Paris? You know - the sites."

Ian shrugged. "Sure. We could meet up in the morning and everyone could go their own way."

Alex thought that sounded nice. Fenrir walked up to him. Ian looked at the dog. "You know, he's kind of cute."

The dog huffed. "My baby prefers ferocious these days."

Ian rolled his eyes. "Of course he does."

Ian got up. "Would you like dinner, Alex?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Eating out with perfectly good food at home? Are you dying or something?"

Ian threw back his head and laughed. "Hell no. I'm just being nice."

Alex was instantly suspicious. "Mmm. Hmm. What's the bad news?"

Ian huffed. The man looked indignant. "I don't only take you out when there's bad news."

Alex shrugged. "I'll believe it when I get through the night without you breaking some sort of bad news to me."

Ian sighed. "Alex."

Alex pulled his most innocent look out. "Ian."

Ian just gave him an implacable look that Alex knew meant Ian would only talk when he was ready. Alex mentally sighed. "Where are we going?"

Ian got up. "It's a new place, for you anyway."

Alex looked at Ian. "Oh?"

Ian shrugged. "Change in the car. You'll need a suit."

Alex looked at his uncle skeptically. "What's so special about it?"

Ian paused. "I took your father there when I found out he was a double agent and got my first paycheck from MI6."

Alex stared, aghast. "They didn't tell you?!"

Ian's lips twisted into a bitter half-smile. "They needed my reaction to be realistic, apparently."

Alex wondered if he would ever really know Ian. "That's awful."

Ian shrugged. "It's all over now, Alex."

Alex wondered if it really was. Man, the news must be pretty bad. They went to dinner. Alex had never been to a place like this with Ian before. It was more of a SCORPIA thing. The glasses glittered and an enormous chandelier hung from the ceiling.

* * *

Ian wondered how Alex was going to take the news. Hi, Alex. So, our family has these spinal injections that prevent most joint wear and tear from being in Black Ops which is why Patrick can still fight like he's twenty years younger than his actual age. They also keep you from losing the will to live, just in case, no matter what. Plus a few other effects I'm not going to tell you about and have to let you figure out yourself. It's the only way Aunt Crazy would give me these for you and I don't want my permission revoked. No, it's nothing too bad, they just enhance your tactical and healing abilities. You're just going to be sick and in agonizing pain for the next five days. Please trust the dodgy family medical practices. Yeah, that was going to go over really fucking well. Not. Ian ordered in French. Alex looked at him. "Cured Salmon?"

Ian glanced up. "Very good."

Alex flashed him a sort of smirk. "What's next?"

Ian gave him the barest of amused looks. "I have no earthly clue. After you pick the appetizer, the chef sets the menu here."

Alex shook his head. "Weird."

Ian shrugged. "Nah. The man is actually pretty good at gauging what people are in the mood for based on their appetizer."

Alex gave Ian a dubious look. "You'll see."

Okay, so it was one of the crazy novel places for rich people, but Ian wasn't going to tell Alex that. "Relax, it's good. Have I ever taken you anywhere bad?"

Alex thought about it. "No, actually."

It was then that Alex noticed they were the only ones there besides the staff. "Why is this place empty?"

Ian smirked. "Nobody comes here before eight. High dining and all that."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Crazy rich people."

Ian smirked. "Just wait until you meet the billionaires. They're the worst."

Alex laughed a little too hard at that. Ian didn't mind. He just really hoped Alex wouldn't end up hating him after this.


	57. Burning

They were driving back. "So, what's going on?"

Ian paused. "Our family has a thing."

Alex groaned. "Oh, goody."

Ian took a deep breath. "Not that kind of thing. Spinal injections."

Alex looked at Ian. "Why?"

Ian tried and failed to untense his shoulders. "They keep your joints from wearing out."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really? I feel fine."

Ian sighed. "If you keep up at the rate we're going, you'll have early-onset arthritis without these, Alex."

Alex didn't look happy. Ian couldn't really blame him. "What's the downside?"

Ian internally cringed. "You're going to be deathly ill for the next five days. I mean, excruciating pain, Alex."

Alex frowned. "Why not use morphine?"

Ian parked in the driveway. "Two reasons. I'm not a doctor and I might overdose you by accident. Second, it interferes with what these are supposed to do with your bones."

Alex sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll bloody well do it."

Ian silently thanked his lucky stars that Alex still trusted him for medical procedures. Not that Alex had a choice, but it would make everything easier if there weren't restraints involved. This was probably why twelve-year-olds were not allowed to give medical consent. Not nearly enough questions. Eh, it was for the best anyway. "All right. I'll be with you."

Alex seemed surprised and Ian felt really, really guilty. "Thank you, Ian."

There was technically a tiny chance Alex could die, but he was in excellent health. There was a reason he was so strict about the food and diet. If Alex had eaten on the fattier end of a more normal diet, the chance of the pain stopping his heart would be much higher. Charles had said Alex's arteries were completely clear and his blood-work was in the top one percent of health. They descended into the basement in silence. Ian supposed he would just have to stay close the whole time. He remembered his injections with a shudder. Even third-degree burns weren't that bad. Ian had already told Jack to not expect him to appear very much. Alex wouldn't need food or water for the next few days. Ian knew he could survive on MRE's just fine. Everything was in place. Ian knew he just had to keep from crying until after he finished the injections. The basement was a fully stocked area for several reasons. This was one of them. Ian looked at him. "Ready?"

Alex rolled his eyes and took off his shirt. It was surprisingly easy to turn his back on Ian. Alex knew he could at least trust the man with his life. For all his exasperation with Ian's health nuttery, Alex could tell the man cared. "Sure."

Alex felt Ian's hands on his back. Surprisingly, it triggered no survival responses. Alex reflected rather dryly that if Ian wanted to kill him, he was welcome to it. All Alex felt at first was three faint pinches. Ian looked him in the eyes. "Alex, I'm so sorry."

The burn was beginning to spread. "I want you to know that I love you and I'm sorry if I messed up."

It now felt like his veins were all being warmed at the same time. Then, it was as if every cell burst into flames. Alex screamed. Oh, god, it _burned_. It felt like the time his back was set on fire, except everywhere. Alex felt his mind rapidly shutting down as the only thing that he could feel was pain. _This better be worth it._ Alex felt his muscles spasm. He was failing miserably at not screaming. Alex felt his consciousness begin to fade out, but he felt Ian's arms around him and the distant, faint sounding of sobbing. Well, at least Ian was keeping one freaking promise to him.

* * *

Ian felt a stab of overwhelming guilt at the first scream. He'd seen a lot of people tortured, but this was _Alex_. Ian began to sob with Alex in his arms, all but writhing in agony. Ian wondered whether this was really for the best. There were probably physical limits to what the human body could withstand without alterations for a reason. At least Alex seemed to be mostly passed out by now. Ian wondered if he should be relieved or not. He was going to set up an IV since Alex would need fluids, but five days wasn't really worth a feeding tube. Ian could barely stand to leave the room long enough to get the stuff. It physically hurt to look at Alex, especially now that he was utterly vulnerable. Ian sat in the bed directly across from his nephew and put his face in his hands. Alex had already met several of SCORPIA's finest and been involved in at least three separate investigations. It was one thing when Alex might have a normal life. Ian wasn't sure it was possible for him anymore, which was why he had changed his mind about following this particular family custom. It had served him well, after all, he was past thirty-five and had no sign of joint or cartilage damage. This was despite nearly two decades keeping his fitness standards well past the army baseline and a physically demanding career in Special Operations and as an assassin. There was no hearing damage to speak of, either. The injections were pretty miraculous aside from their hideous side-effects. Part of it was diet and keeping fit, but part of it was the stuff that they injected into their children. Patrick was likewise untouched by anything joint-related, despite forty years of exercising four to six hours a day at least. The man had invented a style to combat the one taught by Malagasto. With the rate Alex was getting shot at, Ian hadn't wanted to risk it for much longer. Ears were particularly delicate. Marion had been surprisingly easy to convince. Ian suspected it was because she actually liked Alex. At least Alex would be the last one. This time the alterations would be embedded in Alex's DNA to the point that they would be passed on to any kids. Ian wondered if he shouldn't send Alex to study under Patrick. The man was retired. He was perfectly qualified to teach Alex and he had more time. Ian just didn't like him or how he ran his family. Then again, Alex still wanted to live with him and Ian _had_ killed more SCORPIA assassins. Ian was wearing armor just in case anyone tried anything. The house was well-fortified, but Alex was going to be helpless for the last time for the next five days. Ian ran hands through Alex's hair and expertly slid the IV in and taped it into place. Ian wasn't the squeamish type, but it was a little different when it came to sticking needles in Alex or seeing him bleed. Ian sighed. This was going to be a long wait. He had brought work, but at the moment wasn't reading the words on the page he'd been staring at for the last hour. Ian shut the file and sighed. Damn Jones and her fucking paperwork. Ian glanced at Alex. He walked over and checked his heart rate for about the tenth time that hour. Ian decided to give up on work right about then.

* * *

Alex woke up, but he was no longer in his house. "Where am I?"

A very familiar figure in grey appeared. "Where the fuck do you think?"

It was Grim. Alex let out the breath he was holding. "What's going on?"

Grim's smile matched his name. Alex shuddered. It was almost like seeing Alan Blunt smile. "Ian, Ian, Ian. So well-meaning. Such a dumb little fuck sometimes."

Alex had stood and formed a fist before he realized what he was doing. "Temper, Shortstack."

Alex grit his teeth and sat back down. "Well, your uncle in all his bad parenting glory decided to perform the family medical experiment on you. You do know your family are genetic freaks after taking this shit, right? People are _supposed_ to get joint problems when they have routines on par with ballerinas. Gramps should have arthritis, but I digress. Physical enhancements aside, you might notice some fun, fun mental side-effects. You know, reduced empathy, that sort of thing. And you'll have a terrible reaction to opioids, don't take them unless you have to."

Alex just stared at Death. "Um."

Death sighed and continued his rant. "Besides, what Ian doesn't know is that he's opened the door."

Alex decided to interrupt. "The door for what?"

Death shrugged. "Well, all those physical enhancements I've always wanted to try. I've never had an official pet not-quite-human before. I'm kind of excited."

Alex started to back away. This was sounding a little too close to one of the villains he'd run into. "Oh, sit down, Dumbass. This is happening in your head and it's too late to back down now."

Alex felt a burn in his hand. It reminded him of the hideous burning he'd passed out from. "Careful."

Alex realized his hand was actually on fire in the dream. The blueish whiteish flame was oddly less painful in his dream. "What the fuck, Grim? Can't you stop it?"

Grim was suddenly at his side, lowering himself to the ground with unnatural grace. Alex sat down next to him. "Sorry, kid. Old you gets burned."

Alex stared into Grim glowing green eyes. He felt almost betrayed. The flame was consuming his arm. "Why?"

Grim shrugged. "It is the way of things. Old you burns to ash and new you reforms. Don't worry, you'll still have your old memories. It'll just be less...cumbersome in that mind of yours."

Alex stared upwards at Grim. It was almost overwhelming to speak. "Will this happen every time?"

Grim looked almost sympathetic. "No. It's usually a little nicer, but Uncle Dumbshit forced my hand here."

Alex looked up at Grim and managed to force out another question. "What will happen to me?"

Grim looked at him. Alex saw that green-black flames were erupting from his hands. "That's up to you, Phoenix."

And then Grim set him on fire. Well, even more on fire than he already was in his dream. It was a small mercy, Alex supposed. He would burn much faster now, so it would be less painful. The garden faded from view in favor of events from his life. Both his lives. Alex leaned back as the odd mix of different kidnappings melded into one. His early years on both ends ended. Next was two sets of being ten, being eleven, being twelve. Then, his second life ended. His first life continued to rush past in his mind as his torso burned. Alex couldn't talk now even if he tried. First being thirteen, then that awful day when Ian died. He watched as hundreds of people died all over again. The hideous revenge he had taken. Finally, as his heart burned he saw Jack die twice again. Tom's death was the last thing he saw. Alex felt the tears come to his eyes. The flame consumed him entirely.

* * *

Alex woke up in a completely different setting. It was a garden of some sort. It looked vaguely Japanese. Grim was sitting at the edge of a picture-perfect waterfall. "What is this place?"

Grim rolled his eyes. "Your mind."

Alex looked at Grim. "It was all black and dead before."

Alex got up and headed toward the gazebo. In the center of it was something that reminded him of a gravestone. There were characters carved into the marble. "What do they say?"

He only read Mandarin. "Conformity to society at all costs."

Alex felt his mood twist. "Why the fuck is that here?"

Grim shrugged. "I don't know. This is _your_ head."

Alex felt his lips twist. "So, is it dead or not?"

Death just looked at him. "I'm starting to think bringing back Crazy, the teen assassin, was a bad move."

Alex felt a manic grin appear on his face. "Oh, Grim. It's a bit late now."

Grim shook his head. "So, feel any different?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Amazingly non-burny."

Grim sighed. "It won't last, Shortstack. You've still got about three days after my mind shenanigans end."

Alex sighed. "Why? Why would he do this?"

Grim sat down on one of the pavilion's benches. Alex remembered them vaguely from Versailles. "Well, for one, Ian is just as batshit crazy as you are. This will give you a distinct advantage in assassin-land. Two, he's afraid and this was the way he was taught to make someone more durable, per se. Three, he's a selfish bastard and this will bring you closer to both him and Johnny-boy mentally. Unfortunately for him, it won't give him the mental advantage on you he's hoping for. Whoops, my death magic slipped, sorry. I mean, he cares about you, but he's just incapable of being a good parent. Last but not least, he figured that even if this had a small chance of death for you, you would most likely be fine."

Alex felt a flash of red. "You're telling me I could have died?!"

Grim sat down. "Not really, I wouldn't _actually_ let you, but Ian doesn't know that."

Alex threw up his hands. "For the love of-"

Grim cut him off with a handwave. "Look, you knew he was batshit by now."

Alex hissed. "Yeah, but I didn't think he'd pull a stunt like this."

Grim gestured to the bench next to him. "Really? This is the same guy who brought to a war-zone, an area controlled by a dangerous drug dealer, taught you how to hunt in the wilderness miles away from a hospital, let you drive a stolen tank, and taught you how to pick-pocket." Alex sighed. Grim continued his rant. "Don't get me started on his little stunt with bombing Alan Blunt's office and teaching you how to make explosives."

Alex fixed Grim with a look. "Just shut up, Grim."

Grim retorted. "Why, so you can repress your memories of Ian's blatant reckless endangerment?!"

Alex snapped. "Fuck you! It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Grim vanished. Alex let out a scream of rage that transformed into one of pain. The fire was back.

* * *

Ian Rider let out a sigh of relief as the monitor reported Alex's steady, but elevated heart rate. He had lasted this long, so he would live. If they died, it was always the first forty-eight hours. Ian felt his phone buzz. It was Crawley. "Ian where are you?"

Ian tried to keep his weariness from slipping into his tone. "With Alex. I'll be with Alex for the next three days. What's up?"

Crawley sighed. "Jones has been bugging everyone about your location. Why did you disappear?"

Ian lied smoothly. "There was a threat made. It's been taken care of now, but Alex is going to be in bed for the next few days and I need to stay with him."

Crawley sighed loudly over the phone. "I'll just fill out your leave paperwork."

Ian grinned. "Thank you, John."

John hung up on him. Ian was glad one of them remembered these things. His gaze returned to Alex who seemed to jolt, almost awake, and scream in agony. He stared and ran his hands through his hair. Three more days. Alex just had three more days. Ian could only hope his sanity lasted that long. A few people had been driven into insanity. Ian mentally sighed. This was John's son. He would be fine. Ian walked over to his current paperwork stack. Alex's vocal cords wouldn't be lasting very long. He decided to check the IV first. The bag was still in decent shape, but Alex might writhe in agony or have more muscle spasms, so he was checking if it was still in. On the final day, he'd have to immobilize the arm. It was almost guaranteed that Alex would be moving too much for that. Ian rubbed his eyes. Tulip was not going to be happy with him. Then again, Blunt was still the boss for two more weeks. The man wasn't looking so great, but Ian had the 'tact' not to say anything. Ian looked at the papers Marion had given him. He was sorting them into 'meh', 'horrifying', and 'absolutely horrifying' piles. Ian just didn't think Alex was quite ready for papers on torture an interrogation methods _quite_ yet. It just didn't sit right with him. Ian vaguely wondered where Alex was in reading his medical textbooks. It was possible that Alex would be a bit more like him mentally after this. He was hoping for it. Ian had been tactically unable to predict Alex as he was. It was interesting that Alex had been a blind spot. Ian usually didn't miss details. Almost everyone in the family had excellent memories before the injection and became functionally eidetic in some fashion after. He suspected that if enough generations of each family got injected, it would cause permanent changes to their genetic line. This was technically a way of cheating. It forced them away from the average as opposed to towards. Ian hoped nobody noticed the difference. Some of the family members took very 'well' to the enhancements. With John, it ended up that the man had reached superhuman levels of speed and the upper end of strength. Without steroids. Ian himself had taken more of his fair share of non-lethal eight-story falls. Alex's grandfather was still notorious for his battle tactics. Marion's sniper range was off the charts. Ian took a deep breath. Only time would tell. Ian ran his hands through his hair and returned to his files.

* * *

Alex felt the fire finally beginning to fade. His fingers felt slightly less agonizing. The lessening was beginning to spread. Alex felt his eyes snap open and inhaled. His fingers were cooled entirely. He inhaled again. It no longer burned to breathe, but his throat was sore. Probably from the screaming. The burning faded entirely. His muscles felt very sore. Alex moved to get up and found his right arm restrained. Ian was sitting by the bed. "Doing okay?"

Alex felt his lips twitch. "Fine. Can you get this thing off my arm?"

Alex noticed his arm already had several layers of bandages that were partially chewed through by the restraints. "Of course. I had to put it on because you were moving too much for the IV fluids."

Alex felt like he'd been in the hospital for a few days. The restraint came off. "So, what's the damage?" His arm was faintly painful, but it was nothing compared to the hideous burning from before. "What day is it?"

Ian continued peeling back the bandages. Alex wished they could be any color besides hospital-white. It reminded him of too many unpleasant memories. "Not too bad. It's Thursday. We have a trip to the Tower tomorrow if you're up for it."

Alex was shocked at the sight of his arm. In the past life, this would have registered as at least a throbbing annoying pain. Now it felt barely there. "Why doesn't it hurt as much as it should?"

Ian frowned. "Your nerves are still recovering from the shock. Also, your pain threshold has been pretty permanently raised, for obvious reasons."

Alex remembered that he hadn't gotten any injuries like this in the current life. He looked at his arm. This would cause a scar. It looked like a swirl and went almost around his wrist. The red, raw wound was still dripping blood. Alex guessed he'd gotten it in the past twenty-four hours. Alex shrugged. He would probably manage. Ian got up and offered him a hand. Alex took it. "I want a shower."

Ian chuckled. "Yeah, that was pretty much the first thing I said, too."

Alex rolled his eyes and slowly got up. Pretty much every muscle he owned was sore, but not too stiff. He was surprised there wasn't more bruising. It was shower time.

* * *

Alex stepped into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The pale child staring back at him looked all wrong. The bags under his eyes were so dark that they looked like bruises. His wrist was bright red and shredded. Alex felt a sudden surge of anger and the urge to punch the mirror in front of him. He just wanted to be himself again. Except he didn't because then Ian and Tom and Jack would be dead. Alex inhaled slowly. Ian had helpfully laid out clothes and towels. He turned on the water and made it hot. Scorching hot. To the point where he could barely stand to touch it. He made a mental note to burn all of his white clothes. They reminded him of hospital gowns. Besides, it had been a while since he'd accidentally destroyed stuff in some sort of hideously planned science experiment. Jack loved it when he did that. Totally. Tom would probably down for anything involving him and fire. Fenrir. Alex groaned. The fluff was probably a nervous wreck without him. Ian probably hadn't told Jack or Tom squat, come to think of it. Yassen. Shit. Yassen was going to kill him. It had been five days. Alex prayed nothing had caught Yassen's attention and caused him to text Alex about it. Alex felt his first arrant thought pop into his head. It was a way to get Jet interested in his new exotic pet plant. Alex vaguely remembered her griping about limited space in the greenhouse. Hydroponics easily had more layers where traditional gardens didn't. As far as Alex knew, the earliest devices wouldn't be proposed for years. He could just fork the designs over to Jet as "an experiment" that would "just happen" to work the first time around for two people. Perhaps he would even keep his same first name. People wouldn't think to connect _John Rider's son_ with _botany_ , now would they. Maybe the first initial only. "A" was perfectly anonymous. Jet read Arabic, right? Alex was sure that the woman could get it translated if she didn't. They had on-campus language teachers. Alex distinctly remembered Arabic was offered. It would be another connection with the Malagasto, but Alex felt like there weren't very many adults within the "identification and classification field". Ian had commented that it was a dying field because of funding issues. Alex had heard the rant about 'the dying curiosity of society' one too many times. Oh, well. If Alex learned different lessons from Ian's lectures than he was supposed to, then it was Ian's fault, now wasn't it? He supposed he could start a binder. Ian wouldn't notice them missing. Crawley did most of the paperwork now. Alex shut off the shower. It was dinner time. He hoped Jack had made something good.

* * *

Jack Starbright was not best pleased when both Alex _and_ Ian disappeared for a few days. Usually, it was one or the other. Jack was also perfectly sure Crawley knew something and wasn't saying anything. Another long sigh came from Tom, who was attempting to glare down Crawley with all the effectiveness of a limp noodle. Jack would have been more amused if she didn't want answers herself. "Crawley, I swear to-"

Suddenly a flash of blond appeared. "Be nice to Crawley, Jack. It's Ian keeping secrets again."

The very boy she had been concerned about had appeared, as though by magic. Crawley visibly relaxed. "Alex, what happened?!"

Alex had chosen short sleeves and realized it was now a very poor choice. "Don't worry about it, Jack. I had an Ian accident and had to go to the hospital for a few days."

Jack rolled her eyes. "And nobody could just spit that out because?"

Alex shrugged. He felt a little bad manipulating the situation to his abject advantage. Less bad than he should. "I was medically unconscious. Ask Ian."

Jack's eyes flared. They both knew Ian was not going to answer any questions about him. "Do you want dinner?"

Alex brightened. "Yes, thank you."

Jack plated some of her ten-minute fajitas. Alex thought they smelled rather delicious. Fenrir walked right up to his chair and sat right beside it, giving Alex an expectant look. Alex snorted with laughter. "You're lucky you need massive amounts of food, fluff, or else you'd be fat."

The wolf cocked its ears at him. And licked the back of his good arm. "You're not subtle, you know that right."

Tom was shaking his head the exchange. "Spoiled rotten, that one."

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "You feed him too, as I recall."

Fenrir was now eyeing his plate. Alex feared for the safety of his dinner and quickly handed over a sliver of beef. Jack just pretended she didn't see it. Dinner went more smoothly that way. Alex adopted an innocent expression that Jack knew spelled trouble. "Hey Tom, do you want to do a science experiment?"

Jack hoped this would be outside, she really did. Hardwood floors were expensive. And very flammable. Tom perked up. "Sure."

Jack was ninety percent sure the two were both closet pyromaniacs. There was no way all those explosions could be unintentional. "What's the science experiment?"

Alex grinned. "Explosive candles."

Crawley groaned. Dear God, he could just feel the cramps from the cover-up paperwork now. Tom cheered up visibly. "Great!"

Ian just looked amused. "Just set out something so the ash doesn't get everywhere, Boys."

Jack shot Ian a betrayed look. "What? I'm curious too."

Jack rolled her eyes. "At least now I know where he gets it from."

Ian gave her a very _Alex_ grin. "Well, you know, curiosity is a wonderful trait."

Jack went back to her dinner. At least Crawley would commiserate with her.

* * *

Alex waited until he was alone to text Yassen. Thankfully, the man seemed to have been swamped with work and hadn't pinged him about anything.

* * *

_-C_

_So, do you have Jet's email?_

_-A_

* * *

Yassen raised an eyebrow at his phone. If Alex wanted poison, he could supply it. Why would he need Jet? Should he give it to Alex? It would be another odd little connection to his world. But then, that was the end goal. Besides, what was the worst Jet could do by email?

* * *

_-A_

_Why do you want it?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex huffed. Such suspicion. This was almost getting to Ian levels. Then again, he was asking for an email for someone who knew poison stuff. Alex shrugged. It wasn't like _Yassen_ had the needed lab space.

* * *

_-C_

_Botany stuff. It needs a lab. A kind of lab that you don't have._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen raised an eyebrow at his phone. What on Earth was Alex planning? What could he possibly need a lab for? The only thing Yassen could think of that Alex wouldn't also have access to was a mass spectrometer and an autoclave. But why would he need either of them?

* * *

_-A_

_I don't know what you need an autoclave and/or mass spectrometer for and I don't want to know. Be careful. I'll send it via encrypted email. The subject line will contain a question only you and I can answer. The answer will be a password._

_-C_

* * *

Alex grinned. This would be fun. He kind of liked trolling the SCORPIA operatives he knew existed. The next text nearly stopped his heart. Alex had thought Yassen wouldn't keep track of his shenanigans with Chase for very long.

* * *

_-A_

_You wouldn't happen to know about a certain British laboratory that is now a crater, now would you?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex felt a little defensive. It wasn't exactly risk-free to tell SCORPIA to go away and not do what they wanted. Especially since he didn't have backing of any kind. Besides, it wasn't that bad. Just a bit of stealing and expensive property destruction.

* * *

_-C_

_I got bored. And I got pissed at Ian. Besides, it wasn't like an assassination mission or anything._

_-A_

* * *

Yassen looked at the message and was not impressed. No, it was _harder_ than an assassination mission. It had been specifically designed to create surveillance footage of "Alec Pierre". Yassen was nearly certain. It was fortunate Alex was remarkably good at avoiding or destroying cameras. He was not about to let Alex get away without comment, however.

* * *

_-A_

_Tell that to the guards who died from your flechette canister._

_-C_

* * *

Alex looked at the text a felt a small stab of guilt. He wasn't sure Yassen was telling the truth. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. "Maddox? Is he telling the truth?" Alex felt his other phone buzz. For a second, he was afraid of the answer. Then, he shrugged. It wasn't like he hadn't been a mass murderer in the past life.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes. There were six fatalities and the last guard is in critical condition._

_-M_

* * *

Alex closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Oh, well. They had signed up for the job. It wasn't risk-free. Plus, they had volunteered to be involved. Alex hadn't. Well, he hadn't originally and this Ian was way worse about not getting him involved.

* * *

_-C_

_They signed up for the job. They knew what it would entail._

_-A_

* * *

Cossack looked at his phone. Alex's excuses were getting weaker by the month. He hadn't expected such a quick transformation. Did Alex feel resentful of MI6 for taking so much of Ian's attention? There was no real way to gauge without actually seeing him.

* * *

_-A_

_Are we so different?_

_-C_

* * *

Alex stared at the phone. He didn't have an answer. His mind felt full. There was knowledge there. He didn't want to think about it. Tom would be at school the next day. Alex would be with Ian at the Tower. They could do the candle experiment after school hours. Alex looked at his desk. It was time to build one of his prototypes. He hadn't meant to start creating them, but it was kind of nice. There were now multiple binders and Alex had needed to group them by type of device. The wall had lost more plaster, but Alex couldn't bring himself to get rid of any of them. Ian would throw a fit about his inventions and probably some of the stuff he had written. Plus, it forced him to learn more information because of the practical applications. Alex had a glass mason jar, a real candle, and pieces for a small explosive in his desk. The tricky part would probably be the trigger mechanism. Then again, this didn't have to be perfect since it wasn't going to be used in the field. He locked his door and grabbed one of the binders from the wall. The designs were disguised as drawings, but only in color. Any engineer worth their salt could probably build his devices from the drawings, give or take a few adjustments and prototypes. Alex fondly traced the edges of his drawing. It was beautiful. Plus, explosive candles. Alex felt like it was hilarious. Normally candles were supposed to be delicate and gentle little decorations. He felt like the molten glass shards were a particularly brutal twist. There were also glasses that could make the shards toxic at that temperature, but a normal mason jar wouldn't do that. His notes were written in Latin, but it wasn't much of a security measure. Alex was ninety percent sure there were entire hordes of academics that could read Latin. Alex took another look at his notes and began a partial write-up on the back of the sheet in yellow. It was time to build.

* * *

Alex was woken by an eerily cheerful Ian at four in the morning. "Ian, I'm pretty sure the Tower is not open before eight."

Ian was not at all dissuaded. "Aren't you excited?"

Alex rubbed his eyes. "I'd be more excited if you woke me up two hours later. Also, why do I need to be up at four in the morning?"

Ian glanced at his desk. "Nice candle."

Alex gave Ian a look. "What?! I want one."

Thankfully, Tom was hiding the scorpion he'd stolen from MI6. It was almost more trouble than it was worth. Alex shook his head. "I'll make you one for your birthday, Ian."

Ian looked very happy at the thought. Alex wondered whether staying with Ian was even worth it sometimes. It was a lot of trouble. He had to ditch supervision with regularity. The man could be controlling at times and he pulled crap like genetically altering him without telling him all the side-effects. Alex could easily see the benefits, but he _could have died_. He got dressed quickly. Ian, as it turned out, wanted to do double sword practice. Alex held back a groan. He liked to exercise, but not before six in the morning. He wasn't Yermalov, thank you very much. Alex was finally let go to shower again at seven in the morning. This was not cool. Ian wanted to sword practice in the evening, again. His muscles were going to be sore as it was. Ian had him ditch most of his obvious weapons. "What is the point of training with these if I am just going to leave them behind?"

Ian just gave him a warning look. Alex sighed and put his knives down. Ian made him breakfast. It was nice. Plus, Jack hated cooking and early mornings. Ian looked at him. "How do you feel now?"

Alex stretched a bit more. "A bit stiff to be honest."

Ian looked at him. "Yeah, there are stretches for that."

It was odd. "Why do I feel stiff but not sore?"

Ian just looked at him. "Injections."

Alex sighed. This was just weird. And his warm-up had taken forever, even by his and Yassen's standards. Ian plated their food. "It'll be harder for you to build muscle, but yours will be denser."

Alex frowned. "Why is that an improvement?"

Ian placed the silverware down. "They're closer to a predator's muscles. Less lactic acid build-up and more force per pound."

Alex sat down. That probably should have spoiled his appetite, but his stomach still felt perfectly settled. "My psychosomatic responses?"

Ian shrugged. "Unless you come across rotting corpses of children, you'll probably be fine. Maybe even then." Alex was filled with the sudden urge to punch the man in the face. _Why didn't you tell me any of this?!_ He was able to resist screaming. The air slowly left his lungs. "Finished?"

Alex's attention snapped back to the present. "Yes."

Ian all but bounced to his feet. "Let's go, then."

Alex wondered how he'd never noticed before. No thirty-five-year-old man should be able to move that fast. The details of the wood were suddenly interesting. It was time to brush his teeth.

* * *

For a tourist attraction, the Tower of London was surprisingly empty. Then again, it might have to do with the fact that they had gotten there an hour before it was open to the general public. It had started raining the minute they had gotten there. Alex had sighed. He knew the wet clothes and chilly weather should be affecting him more, but couldn't bring himself to complain. It was kind of nice to just feel warm despite being in a damp, drafty old castle. Alex would swear the place was designed to make anyone unfortunate enough to be imprisoned there as miserable as possible. The walls were the kind of grey he associated with Alan Blunt. Ian was excited. Alex would swear he was vibrating. Ian had started them on the various suits of armor. Alex would swear Ian knew more than the tour guides who were paid for this sort of thing. The eventually moved on to the torture devices, all of which Alex was very familiar with. What? He'd gotten curious and his "totally legal" textbooks had references to other books in the back and suggested extended reading. He'd gotten a little too into it and written a short book of his own to summarize the critical information and a short version of the history books, which were shockingly dry for books about torture. Alex had rewritten the best parts so that even Tom would have fun reading them. Tom hated reading. Alex wondered if his friend was dyslexic and made a mental note to ask Belinda for a test for him. It would explain a lot. Alex knew he could probably help his friend out if that was the case. There'd be paperwork, but Ian would probably sign anything Alex put in front of him. They slowly moved through the Tower. It was almost eerily quiet. They moved onto the temperature-controlled room with the Crown Jewels. Alex personally doubted they were real. They glittered wrong for precious gems and if he was the owner of those suckers, they would be in a very secure bank vault somewhere. Alex tuned in for that. "And this one was acquired as a wedding gift in…" Once they got past that, they went to see the Royal Mint. Alex vaguely wondered if they kept the actual artifacts on display, or if they were just very good copies. It wasn't like they could pick up the coins and weigh them. They got out of there at about noon. Alex had been surprised at the sheer amount of information Ian could spew that he could now perfectly recall. He could recall it word for word. At least, the parts he had paid attention to. Alex shrugged. Well, his memory where Ian was concerned had always been heightened. Alex glanced at Ian hopefully as they passed a fish and chips stand. His uncle had rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright Alex, stop looking like your dog died."

Alex grinned. "You know you wanted to."

Ian shook his head. "I'm going to get heartburn, I tell you, heartburn."

Alex snorted. "That's what you get for being a health nut, Ian."

Ian playfully swatted him. "Am not."

Alex gave Ian an indignant look. "You tried to get me to eat raw broccoli with _no dressing_."

Ian huffed. "It's a perfectly valid snack."

Alex gave Ian a look. "I'm twelve, not stupid, Ian."

Ian threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "I tried."

Alex rolled his eyes. "What, to torture my taste buds?"

Ian just shook his head. "You're going to die of high cholesterol at thirty at this rate."

Alex huffed. "Worth it."

Ian started laughing. "You're awful."

Alex batted his eyes and pasted on an innocent expression. "But you love me anyway."

Ian just gave him an amused look. "We should probably head back now. Practice."

Alex groaned. "Again?!"

Ian just looked at him. The man was amused. "Yes."

* * *

The rest of the family piled in at around dinner time. Alex felt like the skin on his hands and feet was about to chafe off, but knew better than to complain. Tom was his usual bouncy self. Alex felt himself smile slightly at Tom's antics. Tom looked him dead in the eyes and offered Alex a hand to hold. Alex took it. "Right. So, we're heading to Paris soon. I've arranged the flights…"

Ian went on for quite a while. Alex knew he'd be repeating himself three other times. Alex had already heard most of the plan. It seemed like it would be a fun trip. Tom was looking a little wide-eyed. Alex gave him a reassuring look. He felt his best friend's finger run across the back of his hand. Fenrir was in his usual spot at Alex's side. "Any questions?"

Alex felt a sense of amusement. Ian reminded him of someone else he'd known in the past life. Alanna had been many things, but she had run their trips like a smooth military operation. She had only been slightly older than him. Alex had fond memories of his partner in crime/mass murder. Tom looked at him funny. "What?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "You know, I was thinking."

Alex looked amused. "Now we're in trouble."

Tom swatted him. "Shush. So, we'll have free time in Paris-"

Alex gave Tom a look. "I'm not vandalizing any national monuments."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Not that. We should do one of your artsy things."

Ian picked that moment to eavesdrop. "What artsy things?"

Tom scowled at the man. "Like, Alex likes I dunno, one of the painty opera things."

Alex sighed. "Tom, it's not that uncommon. You have an opera singer and then the artists paints whatever they feel inspired to, from the music."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Fine, one of your totally non-weird artsy things. I want a fancy dinner."

Alex grinned. "Done."

Ian was looking at them with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Alex, we need to talk."

Alex did his best not to groan. More sword practice. Dear God, his arm was going to fall off. Tom looked very concerned, but let Alex go with Ian. As soon as Tom was out of earshot, Alex had to ask. "More sword practice?"

Ian's grin was very much manic. "You bet."


	58. On to Paris

Ian had, of course, booked the morning flights at an hour no sane person wanted to be up, much less on an airplane. Alex's only consolation was that they got seats together and Tom was now snuggled up to him on one side and Fenrir was on the other. Ian had somehow gotten his dog through customs and Alex was not going to question it for once. Alex, of course, was not able to fall asleep on airplanes anymore. His hearing was weird now. Ian had told him that it would adjust eventually, but Alex's faith in Ian was at an all-time low. Alex almost rolled his eyes but decided to refrain. Crawley was looking very, very nervous and Alex did not want to get sedated by the man again. Ian, had, at least, somehow managed to find a way to get Alex a bag that allowed him to smuggle his weapons into Paris. Alex figured it might come in handy for after the trip. He'd already decided to leave home; it was just he wanted one last vacation with Tom first. He looked at his dog. Fenrir might be able to come with him, but Tom definitely could not go where he was planning to. Antonio had been sent a message that Alex was coming. Alex could only hope that Maddox would handle it securely. The computer was already digitizing his books and notes. Alex wasn't sure how a machine with no hands was managing to make photocopies, but he wasn't going to question it. Maddox had promised him the flash drive would find him once he got to South America. Alex let his eyes snap open. The stewardesses sounded so loud now. The squeaky cartwheels were not helping. "Tea, dear?"

Alex blinked. "Yes, please."

The woman poured the tea. Alex resisted the urge to rub his eyes. His leg muscles twitched. It was probably a bad idea to get on a plane while exceedingly sore. Ian had not let up at all. Alex took the tea. "Thank you."

One sip had him gagging. It tasted like they burnt the tea, used powdered creamer, and dropped in about three extra sugar cubes. No wonder Ian hated sugar and plane food so much. It took everything Alex had to choke the rest of it down. He immediately downed the water Ian had thoughtfully given him. Ian gave him an amused look. Alex glared. "How's the coffee?"

Ian gave him the evil eye. "Fine."

Alex had a sinking suspicion they had burned the coffee as badly as the tea. Crawley was looking between them. "What is going on with you two?"

Ian rolled his eyes. "Relax, Crawley, it'll all be fine."

Alex shrugged. "It's cool, I'll get over it eventually."

What was he supposed to tell them? He was in a depressed mood because of his past and present memories of Ian. Yeah, that'd go over well. Tom cracked a blue eye at him and squeezed his arm. Alex gave Tom a soft smile. Tom snuggled up to him.

* * *

They got to the hotel without incident. Alex was almost surprised the bank didn't have some dodgy shenanigans going on, but they had gone in a real taxi, so Alex figured this was an actual vacation. That or Jones was stepping up the game. Alex unpacked his and Tom's bags while his friend got more sleep. Alex noticed that his equilibrium was closer to six hours than the eight of normal people. He still envied Yassen and Ian's four hours a night. They were adults. Alex wondered if his sleep cycle would be that brief. He was ninety percent sure the lot of them were part bloody vampire. Hey, even Nile thought Yassen had been clinically insane. Alex decided to study until Tom started waking up for real this time. "Alex?"

Alex closed his book. "Yes, Tom."

Tom rolled out of bed. "Did you have anything planned?"

Alex put his textbook down. "Only dinner."

Tom's hair was rumpled to the point Alex had to choke back laughter. "What about lunch?"

Alex shrugged. "Room service."

Tom grinned. "I love you."

Alex shook his head. "I'm going to introduce you to real food, Tom. Good real food."

Tom stretched out. Alex could hear his spine popping. Tom blinked at him. "I look forward to it."

Fenrir had also woken. The yellow eyes of his pet seemed to be cast oddly in the lower light levels. "How are we going to feed him?"

Alex shrugged. "We'll find a butcher, I suppose."

Fenrir fluffed up immediately at the mention of going on walks. Alex was immediately treated to a soft, pleading look from a pair of wide yellow eyes. Fenrir certainly knew how to pull his heartstrings. A faint whine came out. Alex felt a stab of guilt for dragging his dog on an airplane. Tom was shaking with silent laughter. Alex threw a pillow at him. "Oh, shut it."

Tom threw the pillow right back at him. "I didn't say anything."

Alex glared. "You were thinking about it."

Fenrir was still watching them both with one ear cocked. "Oh, just take the poor fluff on a walk."

Fenrir gave a happy yip at the mention of the w-word. Alex blinked. He could just about kill Tom for that. Fenrir was almost shredding the carpet with his claws as the wolf all but vibrated with excitement. "Oh, alright. He grabbed the leash from his bag."

Fenrir walked over to him. Alex lightly slid the clasp into place. "Coming, Tom."

Tom shook his head. "Nah, I'm going to sleep more. Four a.m. flights should be illegal, man."

Alex wholeheartedly agreed with that sentiment. "Yeah, the early ones are always a bitch."

Tom stretched out in the hotel bed and let out a sigh of contentment. "Have fun being a responsible dog owner."

Alex grumbled something that resembled Wolf's string of swears at being woken up under his breath and walked out.

* * *

Alex lightly pet Fenrir when they got out of the hotel room. "So, fluff, do you think we can find a butcher?"

As luck would have it, the wolf led him right to one. Alex sighed and stepped into the shop. The man froze at the sight of his dog. Alex hastily opened in fluent French. " _Relax, he's a pet."_

The butcher immediately softened a touch. " _How can I help you?"_

Alex pet his "dog" and prayed the man wasn't the curious sort. " _My dog eats only raw meat. Since we will be here for about two weeks, I will need around forty-five kilos of meat. Varied cuts are fine since organ meats are good for dogs. Try to get less fat in the cuts."_

The butcher looked at the dog, looked at Alex, looked very amused for a few seconds, and then shrugged. " _Alright, I can only get you about ten kilos today, but I should have the rest tomorrow."_

Alex had figured as much. There were next to no butcher shops that saved the discarded meat. " _That works."_

The man went into the back room, probably to start getting the meat together and Fenrir sat next to a chair. Alex shrugged and sat down. It was a tactical disadvantage, but Alex didn't think he'd be attacked here of all places. Alex knew he'd made a mistake the second Nile popped into the same shop. "Fancy seeing you here."

Alex sighed. "Sod off, Nile."

Nile went to his table and sat down instead. "Is the butcher being nice to you? Do I need to threaten him?"

Alex, sensing the man's impending doom if he said nothing, sighed. "It's fine, Nile. Don't threaten him."

Nile was practically bouncing. Alex wondered who had died a horrible fiery death and whether he could outrun Nile. "Why are you here, anyway?"

Nile retorted. "Why are you?"

Alex gestured at his pet. "Fluff eats raw meat and raw meat only. You?"

Nile shrugged. "Official business."

Alex mentally rolled his eyes. Thankfully, the butcher managed to reappear. Alex opened the wrapping of the top package. Inside was a heart. Alex picked it up. It was still slimy from the blood. He tossed it to Fenrir. "You know, that heart has the wrong number of chambers for...what meat are we pretending this is again?"

Alex huffed. Nile wasn't a surgeon. "I don't think your medical knowledge counts."

Nile pouted. Alex made sure butcher-dude caught a glimpse of his firearm as he tossed another organ to Fenrir. Alex decided he'd finish feeding the fluff when he got home and wrapped the top package back up. He then picked up the brown-paper-wrapped meat. It was surprisingly easy to lift. Maybe Ian had the right idea about the freakishly long workouts. "How's the workout?"

Alex had almost forgotten Nile was there. He forced himself to not swear. "Go. Away."

Nile raised an eyebrow. "Yassen's giving you lessons in manners then. He should stop."

Alex sighed. Alex double-checked the bag and saw a few dog bones in there. " _Sucker for dogs?"_

The butcher just shrugged. " _Enough to know that real bones are bad for them."_

Alex inwardly smirked. Another sucker for dogs, then. " _Good day."_

The man waved goodbye.

* * *

The butcher looked at Nile. "And what do you want?"

Nile had known the man spoke English. "The usual of course."

Nile would be dropping off corpses for disposal. It wasn't normally his job, but the people in logistics had gotten extra grumpy when he forgot to date his last report and were stubbornly refusing to deal with him out of pure spite. It probably didn't help that he'd burned down another bar. What? Arson and murder were fun. "The kid?"

Nile all but hissed. "Touch him and you die."

The man shrugged. "I wouldn't have anyway. He's packing and that dog just snarfed a human heart without flinching."

Nile sighed. "I knew it."

The butcher smirked. "Ah, looking at the next generation already?"

Nile shrugged. "You never know. Besides, I like the kid."

The butcher refrained from snorting, but it was a close call. "I think you would be hard-pressed to find anyone who didn't."

Nile didn't comment but suspected the man was right. Hell, _Yassen_ liked Alex and _Yassen_ didn't _like_ anybody. Yassen had also threatened him with bodily harm if he approached Alex again, but Nile figured the kid had responded to him, so it didn't count. If Alex didn't want to talk, he shouldn't have even acknowledged his existence. That was how things went. "I'll see you tonight, then."

Nile nodded. "Yes, of course."

The man rubbed his hands together. "It will be a long night."

Nile left the shop. The butcher cleaned his counter after Nile left. The blond kid and his over-sized _chien_ were really cute. He could appreciate a large fluffy guard dog. His old bosses had been particularly fond of them. Albeit, they had owned German Shepards. The knives glistened on the walls. He kept them sharp enough to slice through flesh quite easily. The kitchen had never had any accidents. He had once been part of the mob and then retired once he got a bad back and knees. All the standing was not good for joints. People had asked him to deal with their corpses and then it had all kind of exploded, earning him the nickname that matched his daytime livelihood. Ah, well. It could be worse. Besides, he was fairly certain the meat was not going to waste for once.

* * *

Nile rubbed his face. Stalking Blondie was more tempting than it should be. He was, unfortunately, on the job. Still, this was almost too good to pass up. Plus, he had to start planning for Blondie's eventual kidnapping. Yassen had given him the shitty end of the stick and they both knew it. Sure, he had a combat team, but Yassen could order one online. It wasn't like there was a shortage of mercenaries who worked for SCORPIA. "Boss?"

Ah, one of his team. "I need a few hours alone."

He had already decided to break into Blondie's room. "Are you sure?"

Nile was a valuable target. It had never really struck him until now. "Yes. I'll be back in five hours."

He got up. "Why?"

Nile looked at the man. "It's a bit more delicate than the team could handle."

If Blondie could spot him, then Blondie could spot his combat team and panic. He had no doubt Yassen would be summoned and he was not ready for that fight. It would be better if Yassen was just a few years older. Out of his prime. Nile was ninety percent sure he would not _currently_ win that fight. Yassen was a monster. Like, actually. One of the things that had made him so infamous at SCORPIA was the time he had murdered a crime boss and _their entire security team_ in under five minutes. Of course, from what clues Nile was able to pick up Blondie wasn't any less dangerous. There had been that oh, so mysterious attack on the MI6 base by "Alec Pierre". Nile wasn't sure how his boss had bought that, but he wanted Alex for himself so he kept quiet about "Pierre's" real identity. Nile had also gotten some awesome stories from SCORPIA's investigation of the events. The budget people were uber-paranoid and had even had swabs stolen from labs to confirm the explosive residue matched the claims. It also helped to get a feel for the person's particular explosive mixtures and designs. Chase was going apeshit trying to match Pierre to known French explosives experts. Nile thought his boss was occasionally a dumbass. If you were trying to ditch SCORPIA, using your real name or nationality was a bad plan. At any rate, he was currently waiting in Blondie's hotel room for Blondie to return. He hated waiting. Especially in the dark without his phone. Nile was holding his breath in anticipation every time he heard footfalls. He checked his blue light watch. It was designed for minimal glow in the dark. Ten o'clock. What did Blondie do? Eat an eight-course meal and go to the fucking opera? Who took five hours for dinner?! Suddenly, the door opened and Nile froze. Next to Blondie was a brunette boy with blue eyes. "Who the hell are you?!"

Alex had drawn his weapon and shut the door. "Nile? What. The. Fuck?!"

* * *

Alex had decided they would have a nice dinner that night. Tom was glad, even if he did have to wear a stinking suit. God, he hated them. But the food had been so _worth it_. Tom had the best food of his, admittedly short, life. Tom enjoyed eating with just Alex. It had highlighted just how awkward eating with Ian was. Tom had tried not to seem awkward and to include Ian in their conversations, but Ian wasn't exactly into anything that didn't involve Alex. The double standards irked him a bit, but Tom was more concerned about Ian's expectations about Alex's school stuff. Tom had poked around a bit and asked a librarian to confirm his suspicions. Alex at the ripe old age of twelve was expected to perform at a post-graduate level academically. Those were the librarian's words, not his. Tom figured it translated roughly to "way too advanced and way too much pressure for twelve." Tom sighed and remembered opening Alex's math textbook and not understanding very many words of it. Alex had immediately caught his expression. "What's wrong Tom?"

Tom frowned. "What kind of math are you doing?"

Alex gave him a smirk that made his pulse stutter. "Just a bit of calculus for engineering and ordinary differential equations, why?"

Tom sighed. "I was just asking."

Alex huffed a bit. "Try reading my textbooks?"

Tom gave him an innocent look. "Maybe a little bit."

Alex laughed. "If you want to, I'll rewrite them to be ADHD friendly like I do with your textbooks for school. They should do it for more textbooks."

They had finally gotten back to their hotel room. Tom still had a somewhat childish love of tagging in with his hotel badge, so Alex let him go first. Or at least, Tom was ninety percent sure that was what was happening. Alex was faster than him. Then, he had turned on the light and saw a black dude with swords in their hotel room. "Who the hell are you?!"

Alex stepped in and shoved him to the side. "Nile? What. The. Fuck?!"

* * *

Tom stared at the large muscled man in their room. Well, this was interesting. Nile fidgeted. "So, um, are you planning to go back to school?"

Nile needed to learn the best time to kidnap Alex. "Fuck off, Nile."

The boy, Tom, interrupted him. "Why does this guy seem more into your education than Ian?"

Alex huffed. "Shut up, Tom."

Nile was hoping Alex would be in a more talkative mood. "You should listen to your friend."

Well, it would make it easier to learn his schedule for the rest of the year. "I'm home-schooled. With MI6 agents."

Nile mentally groaned. He needed options, damn it. This wasn't helping. Tom interjected. "The house is worse than Fort Knox."

Nile figured that ruled the house out, then, especially with Ian "I returned SCORPIA agents chopped to pieces and stuffed into a coffin" Rider there. The man was widely considered a holy terror. "Be quiet, Tom."

Tom shrugged and glanced at the door. "I feel like this guy would be a better guardian than Ian."

Alex raised an eyebrow at Tom. "He's an assassin who works for a terrorist organization."

Tom pouted. "Darn."

Nile decided to move this conversation along. "Are you planning on traveling without Ian anytime in the next ten years?"

Tom piped up. "He's going on that exchange program thing in Russia next year."

Alex groaned. "Tooom."

Tom rolled his eyes. "It made the news, Alex."

Alex gave his friend a warning look. "I'm an alternate."

Everyone seemed to forget that fact. Well, not forget, but supposed he would be on the plane. "I think between Mandy and that super-sketch Brendan Chase dude plotting, you'll be on that plane."

Nile choked. Oh, Alex would be on that plane, alright. It might even be an improvement over Blondie's current home life. There were more important things to focus on at the moment. "You met Mr. Chase?"

Alex shrugged. "Oh, yeah, he barged in on our dinner."

Nile resisted the urge to wheeze. Oh, God. They didn't _know_. Alex continued. "Joe Byrne was also there. Fun times."

Nile felt his inner gossip queen come to life. He _needed_ to know what happened. These two were killing him. Tom Harris almost made him pass out. "Oh, yeah, he's great. Did you know he used to graffiti buildings in his teens?"

Nile resisted the urge to laugh. He needed to be able to look his boss in the eyes and not burst into fits of laughter. Screw planning a kidnapping. He could do that later. Nile _needed_ this story _now_. Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. He told us all of his petty crime stories."

Nile would pay a great deal of money to hear them. Was this why Yassen wanted Alex? His magical ability to wheedle information out of people? This was why he stalked Alex. He had the _best_ gossip. Nile didn't care how or why he got it, but it was relevant to his interests. Nile leaned back. "So, care to share?"

Tom Harris lit up like a fully demonic sprite. "How much time do you have?"

* * *

Nile had decided to text Yassen at the phone number he'd shamelessly ripped from Yassen file. What? SCORPIA was technically one of his clients. Besides, this was important.

* * *

_-Y_

_Yassen, can you just fork over Alex? I need him in my life._

_-N_

* * *

Yassen glared at his phone. What on Earth was Nile going on about now? They _had_ an agreement in place. In any case, he had an answer for the man.

* * *

_-N_

_Hell no! What are you going on about now?_

_-Y_

* * *

Nile huffed. Yassen was evil. Besides, that deal was before he'd gotten to know Blondie a little better.

* * *

_-Y_

_But you already had an apprentice! It's my turn._

_-N_

* * *

Yassen raised an eyebrow at his phone. Was Nile three years old? There was no such thing as turns in their world. Might made right.

* * *

_-N_

_She's with Dr. Three now. And you are lucky that I didn't tell you to fuck off and find your own._

_-Y_

* * *

Nile huffed at the text. It wasn't his fault Three had sticky, sticky fingers. Yassen should have kept her away from SCORPIA.

* * *

_-Y_

_He gave me all the gossip on Mr. Chase._

_-N_

* * *

Yassen arched a brow at that. Alex had given him most of the board on a platter, but he wasn't about to play all his cards for _Nile_.

* * *

_-N_

_And Alex gave me Winston Yu's life story. Don't think it means anything._

_-Y_

* * *

Nile huffed. Darn. He was looking for a sign Alex liked him better. He was convinced it was the case. His gifts were better than Yassen's gifts.

* * *

_-Y_

_I need someone in my life._

_-N_

* * *

Yassen was thoroughly unmoved by Nile's pleas. Nile would just have to learn to cope like everybody else.

* * *

_-N_

_You'll just have to cope, then, now won't you?_

_-Y_

* * *

Nile gave his phone the evil eye. Yassen was depriving him. He wasn't used to sharing anymore and he remembered how much he hated it.

* * *

_-Y_

_You're a dick._

_-N_

* * *

Yassen nearly cracked a smile at the message. Oh, the feeling was mutual, at least. Then again, unlike Nile, he was acting professionally.

* * *

After Nile left, Alex immediately checked Tom over for darts of any kind. He wouldn't put it past the man, after all, Alex had seen him use blow darts, once upon a time. After that was done, he let out a sigh and sat down. "So, where'd you meet him?"

Tom was awfully cheerful. "Australian outback."

Tom was bouncing. "I like him."

Alex rolled his eyes. Nile could be charming when he wanted to be. Alex was just sure it was manipulation. Then again, once upon a time he and Nile had gotten along okay. In the past life. And then Alex had set him on fire and cut the rope on him. "Of course, you do. It's his job to be charming, right up until he stabs you or shoots you or runs you through with his shiny, shiny swords."

Tom flopped onto the bed. "Oh, c'mon Alex. I'm sure he's nice once you get to know him."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Murdering terrorists. Besides, like Ian, his job would always come first."

Tom gave Alex the squinty eye. "See you've considered it. Besides, I bet a company that pays him enough for that watch would bend over backward for childcare stuff more than MI6. Seriously, that watch costs more than my parents' house that you burned down."

Alex raised an eyebrow. " _Allegedly_ burned down. Since when do you know or care about that stuff?"

Tom glared at Alex. "I'm not stupid. Besides, someone has to look after you. And Ian is dragging you to dodgy family reunions in third-world shite-holes where you get stabbed and shot at."

Alex sighed loudly. "No."

Tom groaned. "At least consider getting a new guardian, Alex."

Alex gave Tom the side-eye. "No. And don't sleep in your suit. It will wrinkle."

Tom got up. "But you admit Ian is a terrible parent."

Alex began undressing. "Yes. That doesn't mean I want a new one."

Tom occasionally felt like screaming. It wouldn't do any good right now, though. "Aleeex."

Alex lightly pulled him off the bed. He pulled too hard and Tom found himself colliding with his friend. Tom instinctively grabbed Alex to avoid falling over. "Oof. Sorry, mate."

Tom huffed. "Sheesh Alex lay off the 'roids."

Alex playfully smacked him and whipped off his shirt. "I'm not disproportionate, am I?"

Tom snorted and rolled his eyes. "No, Alex, don't worry, you're still very pretty."

Alex grinned. "Oh, good, I do want a date at some point in my life."

Tom glanced at the clock. "Alex, did you say our tickets were for nine tomorrow?"

Alex shrugged. "Yes, why?"

Tom glared at the clock. "It's midnight."

Alex pouted. "Darn. I guess we should go to bed now."

Tom was secretly looking forward to that part. He very rarely got any kind of physical affection. Ian and Crawley weren't demonstrative in the slightest and Jack got busy or worried about touching him after she had spotted the bruises when he first moved in. Besides, it was different with your friends. Tom decided to nap while Alex hogged the shower. He started awake nearly an hour later when Alex came out. "Your turn."

Tom squinted. "Do I have to?"

Alex gave him a look. "We're sharing a bed, so yes."

Tom huffed and got up. "I want snuggles."

Alex shrugged. "I don't mind."

Tom felt his neck crack as he got up. Damn, he should have used that pillow. But the bed had been so nice and plush.

* * *

Nile, instead of minding his own business, had decided to spy on the boys. What? He was curious. Besides, this was way more interesting than security work for an uber-rich client. Albeit, that was way more bare flesh from children than he had ever wanted to see. He'd looked away. Look he wasn't a prude, but there were some things you didn't want to watch. Now for the real questions. Were they a couple? It was a bit young, but he'd started when he was not that much older than them. Or just really good friends? Nile felt like sharing a bed with your BFF was super gay, but that could be personal bias since he'd never really had anyone he trusted enough to sleep next to. So, Tom was looking for a replacement guardian for both of them? This could get interesting. He was sure listening in wasn't that creepy. "Tom, why are you only looking for a guardian for me?"

The kid's reply was barely audible. "Because next to you, who would _ever_ want me?"

Nile froze. Oh, god. Now he felt bad for listening to this. "I would."

He could hear Tom's huffing laugh from here. "Yeah, but we both know you don't care about the things normal people do."

Alex sighed lough enough for his bug to pick up. "You're at a college level, you can read those weird medical texts and know what's going on, you're at nearly Olympic levels for several sports, and you know like five billion languages."

Nile rolled his eyes. There were other things in life. But this could create an opening. Tom was feeling lonely and inadequate? He could work with that. "I like you."

Judging from the rustling, Tom shrugged. Nile chanced opening his eyes. Thankfully, both of them liked blankets. Alex continued. "You're the person I trust most in the world."

Nile felt a massive wave of embarrassment. This was worse than sex. Emotional intimacy was just, oh, god. No, no, please change the subject to arson or something. Please. The espionage gods apparently hated him, because Tom replied. "Alex, you and I have been friends for five years now. I think we can say 'I love you' now."

Alex moved. "I love you, too, Tom."

Nile wished he would be struck by lightning right about now. Tom seemed happy now. Nile felt himself inwardly cringing. Shit. He was going to somehow have to look them in the eyes and not die of embarrassment. He felt a stab of pity. No adults to trust, huh? That sucked, but he knew what it was like. Nile felt himself shudder at the idea of being that exposed. "Alex?"

The boy didn't move. "Yes, Tom?"

The brunette hesitated. "Do you think anybody else would, you know, prefer me?"

Alex, to his credit, answered immediately. "Of course, Tom. I'm not everybody's type and neither are you. We'll both find somebody."

Nile wished he could be that optimistic. Sadly, he knew what it was like to be second-best. Nobody ever really cared about second-best. He wondered whether he should kidnap friend, too. Clearly, Alex gave the most damns about him. "Alex?"

The blond boy sounded almost asleep. "Mmm. Hmm."

Tom sighed. "Never mind."

Nile decided he was walking off and chucking the pair to the bug, information be damned, out the window. It was time to go back to his job, anyway.

* * *

Alex woke up next to Tom and smiled. He tried to gently shove his friend off, so as not to wake him. A glance at the clock told him he had just enough time for a morning workout. He'd get Tom up for breakfast. Ian being Ian had its' perks and Alex knew there was a gym somewhere in the hotel. Technically, nobody under sixteen was allowed in them without supervision, but Alex had a sinking suspicion that the minimum wage was not enough to make hotel employees care enough to stop him. Hopefully, nobody would be there to witness his mutant strength. "Maddox?"

A buzz came from his phone. _Yes?_

Alex grinned. _Make sure nobody spots me lifting. I don't want to get dissected._

The reply lit up his screen. _But of course_.

Alex rolled his eyes. He entered the gym and felt a small pang of...disdain? Well, the basement was better, but at least there was equipment. "I know, right?"

Ian must have spotted something in his expression. Alex felt his lips twitch. "We're a pair of prats, aren't we?"

Ian grinned. "Naw, this is a sad, sad gym."

Alex looked at Ian. "Now, now, Ian. Don't be a snob. This is probably all the comparatively destitute hotel owners could afford. All the weapons on our walls could not have been cheap."

Ian playfully whacked the back of his head. Alex just shook his head bemusedly. This was why SCORPIA had a full exercise routine you could do without equipment of any kind. It was also conveniently disguised as a yoga routine. Alex glanced at Ian. "So, what do we do now?"

Ian grinned and whipped out some knives. "Practice, of course."

Alex just looked at him. "Ian, you brought knives on vacation?!"

Ian huffed. "Don't think I didn't spot you cramming enough explosives to level a block in your carry-on."

Alex gave Ian a look. "Explosives are harder to obtain."

Ian retorted. "Knives are easier to explain to customs."

They both stared at each other for a bit. "We should probably get started."

Ian handed him the very familiar knife he'd had since their first trip to South America. "Yeah, let's get going, Alex."

The following two hours were pretty rough. It may not have the high stakes and threats of murder looming over your performance like Malagasto, but Ian was still pretty harsh. Albeit, Alex was pretty sure nobody on the planet could match Yermalov's four a.m. nightmare that might loosely be called a class. Ian nearly sliced his face before freezing. "You okay, Ian?"

Ian sighed. "Yeah. I just didn't want to hurt you is all."

They were both breathing pretty hard. Alex blinked. "I appreciate it."

Ian gave him a dry look. "Meet me here later tonight."

Alex groaned. Ian looked way too cheerful. "Oh, cheer up. This is good for you."

Alex huffed. "Yes, I'm sure every twelve-year-old should receive training in deadly weapons. There is absolutely nothing wrong with this picture."

Ian's grin was rather toothy. "Maybe if they did, there'd be less child trafficking."

Alex gave Ian a look. "I still feel like there are better ways to accomplish that goal."

Ian all but bounced out of the room. Alex was suddenly struck by a horrifying mental image of Yermalov and Ian meeting and shuddered. He'd never get an unhealthy snack or day off exercise ever again if that happened. They'd exchange recipes for beetroot smoothies or some shit and he'd get stuck drinking that until he was thirty. Alex decided it was time to get Tom up. And he was getting chips for lunch, just in case.

* * *

Alex was entirely annoyed by the outrageous crowd near the Eiffel Tower. To be fair, he _had_ picked the location and he _had_ known it was crowded, but still. Tom looked a little concerned. "Are you going to be okay?"

Alex gave Tom his trademark smirk. "Sure, Tom."

Tom gripped his forearm a little tighter. "Are you sure? I know you hate crowds."

Alex lightly pried Tom's fingers off. They were cutting off his circulation. "Relax, Tom."

It was quite a sight. There were lines everywhere surrounding the base of the tower. There were at least four couples with the man taking a (very stereotypical) picture of their girlfriend by the tower. Tom looked hopefully at Alex. "Sorry, Tom, I left all my drag gear at home."

Tom's lips puffed out. "Awww. It would have been awesome to get a picture of you like that."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Future blackmail material, more like."

Tom shrugged. "Awesome for me."

Alex snorted. "C'mon, mate, let's get some lunch."

Tom's eyes began to dance. "Can I troll the waitress by asking for ketchup with my burger?"

Alex looked at Tom. "Only if you wanted to run the risk of getting your food messed with."

Tom huffed. "I'm sure the waiters here are all very professional."

Alex looked at Tom. Tom had just had his French corrected by the waiter at their hotel. Ian had informed Alex that he could get the man fired if he wanted. Alex had been tempted but decided not to be a petty shit. Tom backtracked. "Okay, fine. I'll let you do the talking, so I'm less tempted."

Alex smirked. "Good plan."

Tom looked hopefully at the first place they passed. Alex wanted to get just far enough out of the touristy areas that the prices wouldn't be too badly hiked. "Naw, we'll get something a little farther out."

Tom clung to his forearm. "What?"

Tom gave Alex the evil eye. "Only one of us speaks intelligible French."

Alex shrugged and let Tom hold onto his arm. He found a decent place and declined Tom's idea to scandalize the waiter by ordering their burgers well-done. Alex did make up for that by ordering both Coke and fries. The waiter gave them a once over, but Alex knew for a fact that his French was flawless. He was not getting caught dead in Paris without perfect French and a perfect Parisian accent. Tom watched him bolt down his food in record time. "Hungry?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Tom. "What do you think?"

Alex eyed his fries and just decided to order more. "Huh, weird. You usually eat like Ian's watching."

Alex shrugged. "I've decided fries won't kill me once in a while."

Tom grinned. Alex was awesome when he was in a rebellious mood. Now, all he had to do was keep this up. And hope that somebody who wasn't a murdering terrorist came along. Maybe he could try Russian dude? Sarov seemed to shrug off Ian's threats and MI6 connections like they were a particularly loose piece of lint. Plus, the guy seemed like he was pulling major strings. From what Alex said, they didn't just hand out invitations to Russia's best schools. Not to mention the books, letters, and, well, as much as Tom hated to admit it, diet. Tom could safely say the man fit most criteria for "responsible adult". Plus, he wanted a son badly, if Russian tabloids were anything to go by. Sarov also had publicly _commented_ on Ian's "parenting skills". Tom felt like it was more of a lack thereof. And his parents had been shit. Tom hadn't looked for them and they didn't look for him. He was pretty sure he liked it better that way, but deep down it still stung that his mother cared more about booze than him. Tom didn't care about his father, but he wondered what it would be like to have an actual male role model. He glanced at Alex and wondered what they both would have been like if they had different parents. But, it didn't matter, he supposed. Alex and Tom. It was just the two of them now. To him, it seemed good enough.

* * *

Alex had picked out a museum for them to go to. Tom hadn't exactly been enthused at first, but that was before Alex had told him that the museum had a section on several kinds of weapons that could last for days. It was a lot more interesting when he had Alex next to him whispering about how the weapons would have been used. Tom would not deny that a huge appeal of the whole trip was Alex with him. He missed his friend when Alex and Ian went traipsing off to god-knows-where. "And this was a gold shield that belonged to Charles IX."

Tom paused. "Looks heavy."

Alex smirked. "Well, yeah, it's gold with velvet and gold thread."

Tom just looked at Alex. " _Gold thread_?!"

Alex grinned. "A classic sign of having too much money to blow."

Tom grinned. See, this was why Alex-history was the best history. "Why?"

Alex shrugged. "You could afford the goldsmith to hammer it and the gold itself, I suppose."

Tom stared. "Can you use it in battle?"

Alex snorted. "No, it's entirely an ornamental status symbol. Gold is too soft to cut through human skin and tends to dent and scratch very easily, especially as you get closer to pure gold."

Tom shook his head. "What's the bloody point then?"

Alex grinned. "Well, it looks very, very pretty, and very, very expensive."

Tom glanced around. There were a lot of guards. And a lot of people. "On a scale of one to ten, how close is this to an international incident if we steal it?"

Alex looked at Tom. "Ten. Although, if we don't get caught, it should die down after a month or two. Why?"

Tom sent his best pleading look at Alex. "Well, the French government is rich."

Alex gave Tom a deadpan look. "Yeah, in negative money."

Tom huffed. Not everybody got Ian Rider's early start civics lessons. "And we're poor."

Alex just looked at Tom. "Tom, we're upper-middle class."

Tom sighed. "I feel deeply deprived and need the giant shiny to complete my life."

Alex glanced at the shield and then glanced at Tom. "Tom. It's a national artifact."

Tom pouted. "Please, Alex."

Alex felt something inside his chest crumble. "Fine."

Tom was tempted to do a victory dance but refrained due to the crowd. "I love you."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You had better not expect a Christmas or birthday gift."

They both knew Alex would get him those gifts anyway. Tom smirked. "I think this is easily the most expensive gift you've gotten me, so it's fine."

Alex made a mental note to buy Tom a house and monthly groceries and a few other things when he got the chance. You know, useful, practical gifts instead of shiny stolen shields from the Louvre. Tom looked happy. Alex knew he was probably going straight to hell anyway, so he figured Grand Theft Shield was probably not going to get him that much more bad karma points. Alex was more amused than anything else. Besides, the British-French rivalry went back centuries. Everybody knew that. He was just carrying on the great British tradition of stealing from France. Tom stared at the tapestries Alex had conned him into seeing after the swords. "What are they made of?"

Alex glanced at it. "Wool and silk, most likely."

Tom huffed. "Why are they so big?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Castle walls are tall and drafty. You'd want insulation too, come wintertime."

Tom looked at it. "Wouldn't they have been better off with wool and silk blankets?"

Alex shook his head. "They had those, too, but you have to admit that enormous tapestries look way more impressive."

Tom felt his lips twitch. "True. Wait, is that the medieval version of-"

Alex cut him off with a look. "Lunchtime."

Tom loved Alex's tours.


	59. A Robbery in Paris

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I debated publishing this chapter, because it does touch on racial issues. I am not against interracial adoption at all, but given the time the series takes place in (AR supposedly takes place in 2001, this would be in the nineties or earlier), I have a hard time believing some of the characters would not be openly racist.

Lunch was over-priced and semi-healthy food from one of the shops inside the museum itself. At least Alex had gotten them ice cream afterward. Tom didn't feel as cheated that way. He wondered why Alex had never dragged him to more fast food shops in London. They both had "allowance" aka what they won gambling at school. Plus, Tom was sure Alex money that wasn't linked to Ian, considering how he'd offered to pay for the trip independently of the man. Tom wasn't sure how, considering their hotel was probably a couple hundred pounds a day, but he wasn't going to question it. It was nicer to just have Alex able to shield them from the bad decisions of adults. Tom watched his best friend with no small amount of anticipation. "So, what are we going to do tonight?"

Alex smirked. "The ballet and then a nice restaurant."

Tom groaned. "Why?"

Alex gave Tom an innocent expression. "Front row seats to tall, athletic men and women, Tom."

Tom grinned. "Never thought of it that way."

Alex smirked. "Plus, all those super-tight costumes."

Tom snorted. "I'll take it, Al."

Alex leaned back in his seat smugly. "And after?"

Alex shrugged. "I'll work it into the schedule, don't worry about it."

Tom huffed, "Oh, come on, you never include me in your awesome shenanigans."

Alex shrugged. He honestly hoped Tom wouldn't want to be included. "This is a gift, Tom. It would be rude of me to expect you to participate in its' acquisition."

Tom rolled his eyes, but let it go for the moment. They were in the museum they intended to rob, after all. No need to broadcast it, even if they were above suspicion as actual culprits, being twelve and all. Alex rose gracefully from his seat. Tom felt a squick of something. Why couldn't Alex be clumsy for once in his life? Alex seemed to notice him staring, but didn't comment, instead he just raised an eyebrow at Tom. Tom was eternally grateful Alex had finished his revision of all the school books into a nicer, friendlier format before deciding to vanish into the ether. Alex offered his hand to Tom. Tom grasped it and they went back into the swell of the crowd. The museum, like most of Paris, was exceedingly crowded. Tom was sure the place was supposed to be temperature controlled but wondered if everyone's combined body heat wasn't throwing off the temperature control for the precious paintings. It was late afternoon when they finally squeezed out of one of the museum's exits. Alex was making him wear a suit again for tonight's activities, but Tom wasn't going to complain. Alex did seem genuinely excited. Besides, pretty women in tights did sound kind of nice. Plus, the food was great, even though Tom thought they made way too much fuss about which fork was the fish fork and whether or not your jacket matched your pants. Tom sighed and waited for Alex to get out of the shower. Ian wasn't about to let Alex slack off on his workouts anytime soon.

* * *

Alex got back from the ballet and decided it was as good a time as any to plan to heist the Louvre. He had no earthly clue how to do it, but was not about to let that stop him. Tom was sound asleep, so he pulled out his phone. "Mads, are you there?"

* * *

_-A_

_Of course._

_-M_

* * *

Alex grinned. The computer would make this a lot easier, if he could convince it to help him, at least. Then again, Maddox had yet to turn down any of his requests, no matter how insane or self-serving they were.

* * *

_-M_

_My friend wants a shiny golden shield from the Louvre. Can we pull it off?_

_-A_

* * *

The computer's circuits whirled. Technically, it should be protecting cultural artifacts, however, Alex and his goals were currently aligned. Plus, the chaos would allow him to move on to other soft targets. Particularly some of the country's birth records. Maddox was already anticipating Alex's need for a new identity or five.

* * *

_-A_

_Don't be insulting, Master. I need a day or two, but on the last day of your vacation, all their night systems will be mysteriously disabled. Can't imagine why._

_-M_

* * *

Alex grinned. He loved having a hyper-aggressive supercomputer on his side. It made things much easier. It would have taken him weeks to plan this, otherwise. And probably a few months to code it, to be honest.

* * *

_-M_

_Thanks, Mads. Why_ are _you helping me do this?_

_-A_

* * *

Maddox whirred in his subterranean fort. He calculated the rough risks of telling Alex everything versus keeping secrets. Alex did hate secrets. On the other hand, he would hate getting shut down if Alex decided he had advanced too much.

* * *

_-A_

_I want you to be happy. Plus, I need to access other French systems and one more isn't going to be a hassle._

_-M_

* * *

Alex paused at the reply. The freaking supercomputer wanted him to be happy?! Alex felt himself tear up despite his mental age. Damn it! Why did it sting so much? Alex swiped at his eyes. He still had escape plans to worry about. The plane tickets were purchased, however, there was still a matter of the shield being sent back to Tom and the changes of clothes he would bring. He would need at least three, plus disguises. Anthony would have someone waiting for him when he got there, but that still left him and his dog alone for about twelve hours. Plus, there was no direct flight, so he'd have to change planes in CIA territory. Alex just had to hope Joe Byrne hadn't done anything to his flight computer records in the meantime. It would be a crapshoot running from the CIA in their home territory. He knew from experience that the wily bastards were _everywhere_. Alex rubbed his eyes and began making a list. Thankfully, Ian had agreed to get them in the morning, so he wouldn't be around to question Alex's extra luggage for the day. Alex had copied all of his textbooks, designs, programs, and any other extraneous bits of paper from his room onto various storage devices in his bag, along with most of the library from home. He hadn't got the chance to scan the fiction section, but he had tried to only take what was useful and necessary. Antonio had gotten him his parts to his specifications without asking any questions, and for that he was grateful. Alex was just glad he'd been enough of a geek to be able to reproduce a computer from his own time. To be fair, the technology and machines to make it were already there, they just needed some minor tweaks. Alex had the minor tweaks made into custom parts that Antonio had ordered and paid for. The crime lord had refused to tell him the price, let alone let Alex pay him back. Alex rubbed his eyes and checked the list. It would need to be checked in the morning, then memorized and burned, but other than that he was finally done for the day. Sleep came fast for Alex.

* * *

Alex woke for his final day in Paris extremely tense. "Are you okay?"

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. I just have a lot on my mind."

Tom raised an eyebrow. "You don't have to steal me Sparkles if it's too much stress."

Alex grinned. "Oh, that's the least stressful part of it."

Tom rubbed his eyes. "Alright then. Don't worry about running away from home, you'll be fine. You've basically had no guardian anyway."

Alex rolled his eyes. "C'mon, Tom, we're going to be late."

Tom pouted and rolled over, only to fall out of bed completely. Alex glanced to make sure his friend was alright before bursting into laughter. Tom flushed the color of a fire truck. "I'm up."

Alex smirked. Tom waved a finger threateningly. "Not a word to anyone, you prat."

Alex grinned as Tom got dressed and nearly put his shirt on inside out. "Serves you right for not folding your laundry."

Tom flipped him the bird. Alex shrugged. He was enjoying this far too much. Tom lightly shoved him on the way to breakfast. Alex just raised an eyebrow. Tom rolled his eyes. Breakfast was a quiet affair. Tom took the opportunity to eat as many bowls of chocolate cereal as he could. Alex could reliably inform someone that anything past three bowls would give you a stomachache, but had been ignored by Tom. Alex had his usual breakfast of two eggs, fruit, and toast. So far, none of the supervillains had liked poached eggs, so Alex had those to avoid the memories. Plus, Hollandaise sauce was pretty good. After breakfast, they headed to a small shop. It was an odd sort of place, but Tom tended to like weird and shiny things anyway. Alex was also picking up his new passport there, but Tom didn't need to know that. Alex wasn't sure how Maddox had done it, but he wasn't going to question it too hard. He hadn't told Yassen or Nile about his plan. It seemed...ill-advised. Plus, Alex figured he could handle on heist and plane flight without those two, thank you very much. He was twelve, not incompetent. Tom appeared shortly after he'd wordlessly received a brown package from the shop owner. Naturally, he had a large shiny rock in his hands and a puppy-like expression on his face. Alex, not even bothering to sigh, wordlessly placed a bill on the counter and offered Tom his arm. Tom's smile made the overweight baggage fees worth it. That thing probably weighed at least five kilos. Oh, well.

* * *

Alex was almost anxious by the time the day ended. They got back to the hotel. Tom watched as Alex changed for dinner and saw the bags. "You'll come back, right?"

Alex smiled at Tom. "Of course, Tom."

He knew it was risky, but figured that his plan wouldn't be too bad if he kept up. "And I'll get a proper goodbye?"

Alex grinned. "Would I really do that to you?"

Tom gave him the evil eye. "Yes."

Alex pouted. "Traitor."

Tom smirked. "Runaway heathen."

Alex tossed a pillow at his best friend. "How long do you think you'll be gone?"

Alex decided to answer honestly. "I've got no idea. However long it takes to feel okay, I guess."

Tom stared. "What _did_ Ian _actually_ do?"

Alex let out a loud sigh. "He genetically modified me without my consent."

Tom gaped. "He WHAT?!"

Alex waved his hand. "Shhh. It's not common knowledge."

Tom looked pissed. "He...he's lucky to live if the courts find out."

Alex huffed. "Like it'll ever get that far. Let me deal with this my way."

Tom closed his eyes and sighed. "Anything else you want to tell me?"

Alex pulled out several letters. "Send these."

One was for Jack and the other was for Belinda. Jack's was a proper good-bye like he should have done in the past life with MI6. Belinda's was a date, a time, and a place. She could come or not. Alex would prefer to have a shrink on his side. He had a vague feeling he would need it. Their dinner was awkward and fairly quiet. Alex wished Tom had confronted him after dinner. "I'm stealing your sparkly tonight."

Tom flashed him a grin. It was every bit the Tom he'd once known. "Why, thank you, Alex."

Alex resisted a smirk. "Well, you did ask so nicely. And you only made three socio-political errors in your request."

Tom glared at him from across their cake. "Fuck you."

Alex cheerfully stole cake off Tom's plate. Tom gave him a look but did not respond. "Well, Tom, you'd have to take me to the opera first."

Tom sputtered and then laughed. "I'm going to miss you, Alex."

Alex grinned. "Miss the opportunity to flirt, more like. Don't worry, Jamie will take care of you."

Tom pouted. "But I like you better than Jamie."

Alex retorted. "Of course, you do, I'm far better looking, but you'll have to make due."

Tom muttered. "And he knows it, too."

They got back up to their room. "I guess this is it, To-oof."

Alex was cut off from oxygen by his best friend. Tom hugged him. Alex wrapped his arms around the thin frame. Tom leaned into his shoulder, holding him for a full minute before releasing him. Alex didn't mind. "Be safe, Al."

Alex shrugged. "I will."

Tom rolled his eyes. "I'll believe it when I see it."

Alex grabbed his backpack and replied. "I try."

Tom handed him his other bag. "For all the good that it does you."

Alex looked back as he walked out. Tom's mournful blue eyes would probably haunt him for a good long while.

* * *

Alex walked towards the Louvre. Maddox had already disabled the relevant cameras. Thankfully, they weren't as common now as they were in the world he'd left. The front gates were held together by a padlock. Alex's gloved hands reached for the lock with a lockpick. A few twists later and the gates creaked open. There was no alarm. There was no noise at all. It was eerie. Alex went through the front door of the former palace. He still expected the alarms to blare. No such thing. Alex moved quickly through the entirely silent and deserted museum. Normally, there would be human guards, but Maddox had worked some electronic kabuki with the schedules. Alex was suddenly nervous and broke out into a jog. Three kilometers, if he remembered everything right. And he did. His memory was perfect now. Alex got to the shield in under ten minutes. Another lock and a cage surrounded the thing. Alex flicked the lock open and sharply inhaled as the cage swung open. Still no alarm. Tom had better stick this thing above the fucking mantle. It was an extremely heavy artifact for something only useful as a decoration. Alex decided to run with it. It barely slowed him down. It was more of an awkward shape, to be honest. Alex slowed to a walk as soon as he got near the museum entrance. He stopped near the pyramid and used the light to pack the shield into a shipping box. It would be sent to England on a plane at 7 a.m. after the post office opened at 6 a.m. The authorities would notice it missing at 9 a.m. and it would already be too late. Alex dropped the box into the depository. They had been discontinued after multiple terrorist attacks in his future, but for now, they were still there and commonly used. Alex closed his eyes, inhaled, and walked away. It was almost too easy. He had a plane to catch.

* * *

He called a taxi. The driver's grumpy attitude at being called for an airport drop at three in the morning was immediately put aside in favor of an offer to call the police. Alex had just silently slid an extra bill his way. The man had regarded him silently before loading his luggage into the trunk. Alex got out at the airport and wandered past the flags of the world, through security, and into the gate. A quick survey of his fellow passengers told him two things. One, they were too tired to care about the unaccompanied twelve-year-old. Two, the flight was so empty, they could get three seats to themselves and lie down. Alex thanked whatever higher powers there were for it. Even the flight attendant couldn't seem to be unnaturally chipper at this time of night. Everyone was virtually silent as the scanner dinged all of them in. Alex decided to take the nice flight attendant's suggestion and switched to the middle seat, let out his seatbelt, and lay down across all three seats to sleep. He leaned back into the still-to-narrow "bed" and tried to fall asleep. Alex must have eventually managed because he was gently woken for breakfast. "Cooked or Continental?"

Alex blurted out. "Continental, thanks."

The woman left him his tray and some orange juice. Alex wished it was coffee, but considering Maddox had slipped him out of being an unaccompanied minor, he didn't want to push it. Being put in a room while they called his guardian was the last thing Alex wanted now. Besides, he would then have to explain the fake passport. Plus, Joe might just take that as an invitation to assume custody of him. Since Joe had his own seemingly well-adjusted children, Alex would have actual parental restrictions and that wouldn't do. Alex needed his freedom of movement and ability to scheme. On the other hand, he figured Joe might need a distraction. He'd be sending the man a lovely informative email. Razim had been confirmed to be in the hideout that Alex had intimate knowledge of. The coordinates were burned into his mind after the first two incidents that had happened there. The rest was just history. Alex had decided to trust in the CIA's ability to kill a man first and ask questions. Besides, he wouldn't be using his real name. There was also the angle with Brendan Chase to consider. Alex knew Kurst was going above his fellow board members' heads and forcing them to look into people that a few privately disliked as replacements. He figured Chase wouldn't be too put out that "Alec Pierre" had sent the CIA a "tiny" "anonymous" tip. At any rate, he had emails to send.

* * *

_Dear Joe Byrne,_

_You will find the man known as Abdul-Aziz Al-Rahim or Razim at the coordinates enclosed. I also have included the blueprints of his compound, an approximate count of the guards, and their approximate patrol shifts._

_Why? It's the question I would ask. Let's just say Razim has made it personal between us and I want him interrogated and dead. You might be interested to know that the man has links with Al-Qaeda and Saddam Hussein. I would if I was in your position. You'll find files detailing his "work" in "the science of pain" on his computer. It should yield information on the fates of at least three of your agents if nothing else._

_Can I get more information from him? That would be my second question. The answer is "maybe". How about you see if my first note checks out, hmm? If I need you, I'll contact you. I will not work against Scorpia, but I'm sure you can find me if you want to contact me._

_Happy Hunting,_

_Alec Pierre_

_P.S. Since I know you CIA-types like to label people, you can call me an "information broker". It's as accurate as any other title._

* * *

Joe Byrne's eyes were wide as he read the email he'd just received. It was at his private internal work email, too. The little French shit Pierre knew way too much about him for his comfort. He had a boss, several employees, and a bunch of people to call. Somebody went and found fucking Razim. Well, Joe had figured the man would eventually tick off the wrong people, but this was different. This was essentially a cold-blooded, knife in the back, stabby move. Byrne was unsure of what the man had done to piss the Frenchman off, and he was equally sure he didn't want to know. Joe sighed and sent the stuff off to the IT department. They would check for viruses and print it in time for his four-a.m. briefing that the supervisors had insisted on after getting his call. The next few days or weeks until Razim was caught would be hell. Everyone would have to get in place. The paperwork would be a nightmare. But it would be worth it. Joe had been after the man since the first few months of his career. The email seemed almost too good to be true. Nonetheless, it was nothing a few satellite images couldn't confirm. They could at least confirm that the fort was inhabited, at any rate. Joe closed his eyes and felt the bloodlust well up. Almost there. He could practically taste victory. Razim had never been this close to being caught. Joe wasn't sure why, but he had a feeling that the information was accurate. Pierre was going to be a real issue. Somebody had sold information on him. Joe wasn't sure how much or who it could be, but it had to be an insider. If Pierre could get the information, then so could his enemies. He might be estranged from his wife and adult children, but that didn't mean he wanted them to be brutally murdered by his enemies. Byrne made a mental note to get one of his people on it. There was no telling who Pierre was or, more importantly, what he wanted. Joe's office door was thrown open. "Is this genuine?"

Ah, it was Agent Knight. "As far as we know, yes."

Knight continued. "Does Pierre even know what he's done?!"

Byrne felt his lips twitch. "Presumably, yes, however, I'd leave that up to the psych department to determine-"

Knight interrupted him. "Fuck the psych department! Why aren't we tracking down Pierre this second?! He could be invaluable to-"

Byrne interrupted her tirade. It wasn't like he didn't share her feelings. "Or a tricky enemy. The point is, we don't know, so we'll be focusing on Razim for now."

Knight deflated. Ah, to be young and impetuous again. "Yes, sir."

Knight exited his office. Byrne waited about fifteen seconds and the door banged open again. It was going to be a long day.

* * *

_Dear Mr. Chase,_

_I'm_ _delighted_ _sorry to inform you that the man known as Razim will be dead as soon as the CIA gets around to it. You see, he pissed me off rather badly. I can't have that, so he needed to die._

_You might be interested to know that Kurst was planning to force his initiation into the board in a few years (presumably after he planned to eliminate Kroll), along with the Grimauldi Twins. I personally found all three intolerable, but Razim was particularly unpleasant. Of the options, the Twins are the more pleasant of the two but are a pair of savage brutes nonetheless. If I were you, I'd set someone on them, but fortunately, I'm not you, because then I'd have to put up with your colleagues._

_Attached is as much as I know about the twins. I'd appreciate it if you shared this with as few people as possible, but I can't exactly stop you. If I were you, I'd look a little closer to home for replacements for your departed members, say, Yassen, but that's just a personal preference (a bit higher on the fineness points, if you catch my drift). In any case, your succession crises are your business._

_I'll be a bit harder to contact from now on. I have business on a separate continent. You can route mail through the bank, but know that I'll be in South America until further notice, so expect about a month for replies._

_Your Frenemy,_

_Alec Pierre_

_P.S. Have fun, but not too much fun!_

* * *

Chase stared at the letter in front of him. He wasn't sure whether the wide grin on his face was a sign of impending madness or not. The nerve! The daring! The man was awful, just awful, and Chase was loving every second of the letter. Being part of SCORPIA was almost...exciting again. Thwarting Kurst would be amazing. Chase personally disliked the man, although he was not rude enough to voice such thoughts ever. The fifty pages of beautifully formatted, well-organized information were also fantastic. There were sources he could have gone to that were outside of SCORPIA (and in SCORPIA), but very few of them were this thorough. Pierre must be anal about information gathering. Who the fuck recorded "usual bowel movement times"?! It was hilarious to Chase personally, but still. Dr. Three did not look thrilled to be up past his usual bedtime. "You called?"

Chase could tell he was about three sentences away from a potentially lethal assassination attempt. "Pierre wrote. Take a look."

Three carefully took the letter and a massive (fifty-page) file from him. Chase could see the exact moment that Three got to the part about Kurst going behind all of their backs. The man's gaze sharpened. "Well, Pierre leaves something to be desired in the decorum department, but he is useful. Step up recruitment efforts. And when he finally does join us outright, enroll him in etiquette with the Countess."

Chase chuckled. "Oh, I think he'd be a nice addition to the school, don't you?"

Dr. Three placed the letter back on his desk and began flipping through the file. It was perfectly formatted. It could have been written by logistics. "Let's not get ahead of ourselves, Brendan. First, we'll deal with these twins of Kurst's. I think Yassen could use the assignment."

Yassen needed extra assassination assignments like a shark needed another row of teeth, but he was great at the sensitive assignments, so Chase didn't argue.

* * *

Alex had just landed in South America and was now taking a taxi to meet Antonio when his phone buzzed. He wasn't expecting Ian's frantic begging for at least another few hours, so he checked the phone from Yassen.

* * *

_-A_

_Why did I just get a super sensitive assignment based on information from "Alec Pierre"?_

_-C_

* * *

Yassen was beyond pissed Alex had pulled anything of this magnitude without consulting him first. Setting the board _and_ the CIA on his enemies?! Was Alex _trying_ to die?! The excuse was exceedingly flimsy at best.

* * *

_-C_

_I imagine that Chase and Three wanted someone discreet for dealing with the Twins. It's true, though. Everything I wrote was true._

_-A_

* * *

Alex didn't see what the big deal was. Two more crime bosses probably made no difference to Yassen, right? The man didn't care about anyone besides himself and Alex. Alex was sure of that. It wasn't the killing.

* * *

_-A_

_Yes, and that might be the only saving grace in all of this. Why did you do it, Alex?_

_-C_

* * *

Yassen frowned. He did wonder how Alex was going to justify this. It wasn't like Alex to just betray people to their deaths. Alex was usually a little bit less...cold. More human. More likely to spare others from the board's wrath than set it upon them. What had the targets _done?!_

* * *

_-C_

_Well, Razim's a piece of work and he threatened my family. The Twins are also pretty bad, but a friend discovered they were planning a little ransom stunt with some of my blue blood friends. Plus, they sound terrible to work for and I wouldn't want you to suffer._

_-A_

* * *

Alex shrugged. Yassen could believe what he wanted, but "I'm from the future and they'll try to kill me" was probably not going to land him anywhere except kidnapped into therapy for delusions.

* * *

_-A_

_Alex...you're a sentimental idiot._

_-C_

* * *

Yassen felt his lips twitch at the text message. Oh, Alex… He was an idiot, but he was Yassen's idiot. Well, he would be, provided Nile didn't fuck it up. Yassen inhaled. Well, he could at least help Alex by playing along for now.

* * *

_-C_

_That may be, but I'm_ your _idiot._

_-A_

* * *

Alex grinned at his reply. Poor Yassen probably wouldn't know how to handle it. Emotions and all such terrible things. This was more fun than he'd thought it would be. Alex closed his phone and stepped out of the taxi.

* * *

Antonio rarely did meet-ups in person anymore, but he'd made an exception for Alex. He carefully examined the boy as he approached. Alex looked...thin, almost muscular. Antonio barely kept from gaping as Alex got closer. Antonio had never seen a child with actual muscle mass before. What had Ian _done_ to him?! Alex had circles under his eyes. Antonio decided to wait to comment. "Alex."

Alex's eyes fixed him with an intense stare. A faint gleam of madness touched in the brown. "Antonio."

The drug kingpin rose. "Come. We have much to discuss."

Alex followed him. Antonio took his bag. It didn't sit well with him to let any child do actual work in front of him. Alex sat in the car next to him and traced the recently-shined leather and stainless-steel trimmings he'd had polished this morning. "So, what's the deal here?"

Antonio arched a brow and pulled out several burritos he'd had the cook make them. "Eat, Alex, you look dead."

Alex's lips twitched and he took a bite. "This, after I fly thousands of miles to see you? See if I ever visit again."

Antonio laughed despite his concern. "You have options, Alex. I will not pressure you one way or another."

Alex looked skeptical, but Antonio knew of no way to reassure him. "Uh, huh. What options?"

Antonio paused. "You can stay with me as my son. I'd care for you as my own. Be a father to you in the best way I know how. I would shelter you, provide for you, and generally educate and help you until you were ready to take over my empire."

Alex raised an eyebrow. He was not a child. "And the other option?"

Antonio looked pained. "You come here as my partner. We wage war on the CIA, the other cartels, and anyone else who stands in the way of a peaceful, secure society."

Alex opened his mouth. "Decide after dinner. You look like you could use a day of rest. I'll have everyone over and they'll give us both updates. Then you can decide based on the state of things whether you want to join in or not."

Alex sat back. Waiting wouldn't kill him, he supposed. "Alright."

The car stopped. Antonio stepped out. "Welcome back, Alex. Your room is the same as last time."

Alex followed him. It didn't take him long to shower and pass out on his bed.

* * *

Alex woke to Miguel goggling at him in his room. "Uh, Hi."

Miguel sat down at his desk chair. Alex thought he seemed a bit sulky. Miguel replied. " _Hello."_

Alex sighed. " _Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are we going to play the guessing game?"_

Miguel huffed. " _Isn't it obvious?! You get to sit in on Father's business meeting and I don't!"_

Alex rubbed his eyes. What was it with him and rich dudes' sons? " _Don't you get it, Miguel. He's letting me sit in because he likes me less than you!"_

Miguel stared. " _What...What do you mean?"_

Alex sighed. How did he explain this to Miguel? " _Your father plans to leave me his crime empire, but he's going to leave you all of his money. He's setting you up for a life of royalty and giving me all the work, you see."_

Miguel squinted at him. " _I guess. Why is he including you in all of this?"_

Alex shrugged. To be honest, he didn't know that himself. Then again, he kind of understood it. " _The criminal world needs stability. I can give it stability. He doesn't want you to have the life of a crime lord because he knows it would cause you pain. Your father, Antonio, knows that I can take the pain better than you. I've been in pain my whole life, but you haven't and you don't have to be. For him, this is the best way to ensure that people don't suffer_ and _his son has a better life."_

Miguel looked torn. " _Why would I let you take what is supposed to be my burden?"_

Alex looked at Miguel. He'd just assumed the boy had an obsession he'd get over eventually. This was a little softer than an obsession, though. Was Miguel becoming his friend? " _Because. I can handle it better than you. Also, Antonio knows I'll protect you after he's gone."_

Miguel looked at him. " _Why would you do a stupid thing like that?"_

Alex felt his lips twitch. Did all the sociopaths in his life need to question his choices this week? " _Sentiment. I find that I'd rather not see you suffer. Plus, I've seen people in your position forced into taking over the family business. It never ends well. Never."_

Miguel's eyes widened almost comically. " _What...What happened?"_

Alex shook his head. " _Three dead. One alcoholic. One sex addict. A few others I'd rather not remember."_

Miguel's mouth was hanging open. " _Really? How many dead people do you know?"_

Alex felt his face snap shut. " _Miguel."_

The boy seemed to know he'd asked a question that crossed the line. " _I'm sorry, Alex. I was just curious."_

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes. " _I lost count. But some of those people include my parents."_

Miguel frowned and reached out to pat Alex sympathetically. Alex barely restrained his flinch. He wasn't used to being touched by strangers. " _I'm sorry about your parents, Alejandro."_

Alex got a sudden idea for his next alias. He was tempted to shrug off the hand but didn't want to make enemies. The last thing he needed was a power struggle. " _It's alright, Miguel. You didn't know."_

Miguel paused. " _I guess this seems pretty stupid."_

Alex shook his head. " _It's never stupid to express your feelings. Everyone questions whether their parents love them sometimes. If it's any consolation, I think Antonio loves you very much. I'm usually pretty good at telling, too."_

Miguel squeezed his shoulder. " _Thank you, Alejandro. Dinner will start soon, so I'll let you change now."_

With that, Miguel left him. Alex sighed and changed into a very nice suit. It seemed to be a local brand and made of wool sourced from South America. Alex felt his lips twitch. Trust Antonio to support local companies.

* * *

Alex was getting twitchy a few hours into the reports. It was all pretty much the same, but Alex knew he needed to remember everything in excruciating detail. The only good thing about hearing all the reports was that Alex knew Antonio took to dining with all of his business partners. Which meant it would be easy to poison all of the problematic ones. Alex wondered if he could pull off getting all of them at once. It might work. He could convince the man to hold a massive banquet. Alex was sure Antonio would go with his plan if the timing was appropriate. There were other issues. Like the CIA bases in South America. Alex had been surprised to learn there were any but hadn't let it show. "And who the hell is that kid?"

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "That is none of your business, Card."

Card glared at Antonio. "The hell it isn't. You said your operation had no kids."

Antonio stepped slightly closer to Alex. "Alejandro, my second son, is the heir to my empire. Miguel will handle the money, naturally."

Card raised an eyebrow. "If that kid ain't pure Anglo, I'll eat my boots."

Antonio's eyes narrowed, but Card continued on his diatribe. "What's a Mexican like you doing with a white kid? You should let him be with his kind."

Alex had just about had enough. "Excuse me, you racist fuck. Maybe Antonio _did_ adopt me. Maybe I don't want to go back to 'my own kind', as you put it, because of your blatant racism, xenophobia, and sexism. Maybe I've finally found a place to be myself. Fuck you, Card!"

Antonio bit back a laugh at Card's expression. "Alejandro's paternity notwithstanding, I believe you have other things to report."

Card sighed and seemed to let it go, but continued to creepily eye Alex through the entire report. The rest of it seemed to go without a hitch. Drugs. Money. Weapons. More money. Alex found these meetings to be surprisingly boring. Alex was more interested in the CIA half of it because he'd have to take it over with a combination of force and diplomacy. He was unsure whether it would be more force or more diplomacy. Card would probably have to go. Maybe his second-in-command? Alex made a mental note to ask. After the meeting finally ended. Antonio paused. "So, what do you think?"

Alex sighed. "We can't use pure force. I think we need more information to take over since we can't win an outright civil war."

Antonio looked amused. "I mean, Alex, _what do you think_?"

Alex thought about it. He didn't like the CIA cooperating with the cartels. He hated the fact that Ian had helped this happen. And, frankly, this would piss off the rest of the "not-so-good" guys that had wronged him in the past life. "I'm in."

* * *

Antonio sighed heavily. He'd had a feeling Alex would say that. "Your education and experience begin tomorrow, then. We'll start with intelligence reports."

Alex mentally groaned but felt the burning, seething rage at Ian burn away most of his reluctance. "Alright then."

Antonio sighed. "If you ever want out, just say so."

Alex shrugged. "I won't, but thank you. I'm willing to do whatever it takes."

Antonio looked older than Alex had seen. "We'll be continuing your education. I won't have an illiterate partner."

Alex shrugged. "I guess there'll be a lot of tests tomorrow, then."

Antonio chuckled. "Don't worry, I have private tutors covered if there is a need."

Alex was reminded once again that Ian hadn't bothered. Instead, he'd just left Alex to self-study and occasionally tested him. "I want self-defense lessons, Antonio."

Antonio chuckled. "Naturally. I'm no expert, but we do have them here."

Alex let out a mental sigh of relief. It was good to have someone listen to his requests and _not fucking argue_. Antonio paused. "Is there anything else?"

Alex shrugged. "Not now, I might ask for specifics later."

Antonio looked at him. There was something close to pity in his eyes. "Do you have a chosen profession? A dream?"

Alex froze. "I would have liked to be a surgeon."

Antonio looked at him. "You know, I can make arrangements to continue the academic end of things. I'll gather some medical professionals. You can learn battle medicine first, but that doesn't mean you can't expand on your education."

Alex leaned on the table. "Thank you, Antonio."

Antonio's eyes narrowed. "It's what your guardian should have done. It's what any responsible adult should have done."

Alex perked up. "One other thing. We may or may not be meeting and kidnapping my shrink."

Antonio's lips twitched. "That I can assist you with."

Alex glared. "Is something funny?"

Antonio chuckled. "Go to sleep, Alex, you'll understand when you're older."

Alex sighed loudly and went upstairs with his usual soundless walk. Bedtime.


	60. Testing, Testing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Alex is still going to Russia. It will be in the year that he is 13-14 years old (physically), however. For now, 12-13 (physically, at least) years old will have a very important (and exceedingly pre-planned) character arc with several key characters and character development for Alex. The experiences he faces in South America will be important to his relationship with Sarov, which is why this arc comes first.

Alex woke up early the next day. He hadn’t been called for breakfast, so he started his stretches. The computer parts were neatly organized on a tray at his desk, but Alex resisted the urge to go through them. The computer could be built later. Stretches were an everyday activity for the morning. Alex usually did the exercises from SCORPIA and karate in the morning and the exercises from Ian in the evening. It amounted to about three or four hours a day. Alex wasn’t sure if his genetic modification gave him an edge or not. Compared to his older self, he was much weaker. Alex sighed and began completing the more intense portion of his katas. After he finished his morning exercise and shower, it was closer to a reasonable time of the morning. Alex sat down and ignored his stomach growls. He’d just picked up the first computer parts when there was a knock at his door. “Breakfast time.”

It was the cook’s voice. He felt vaguely guilty for forgetting to ask her name. “Thanks, um-”

The old woman smiled faintly. “Maria,  _ mijo _ .”

Alex smiled back at her.  _ “Gracias, Maria _ .”

The woman vanished back into the woodwork. Breakfast was at nine here, then. Alex figured that waking up at seven was about right, then. He strolled down to the dining room. Well, the smaller intimate one, anyway. Antonio had several. Alex sat down first. Antonio walked in shortly after. “Where’s Miguel?”

Antonio smiled faintly. “He tends to lag in the mornings these days. Being fifteen does that to you.”

Alex shrugged. At fifteen, he’d done his fair share of lagging with Edward, but after that, he’d always gotten up and- “I guess.”

Antonio looked concerned. “When did you get up this morning?”

Alex shrugged. “Seven.”

Antonio continued. “What did you do for two hours?”

Alex mentally sighed. “Morning exercises.”

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “Anything else?”

Alex took the first bite of eggs. “Looked at the computer parts. How much do I owe you by the way?”

Antonio gave him a look. “It’s a gift.”

Alex looked puzzled. “Uh, okay, if you’re sure.”

Antonio glared. “Yes, I am. You’re twelve. It’s a birthday gift.”

Alex blinked. “You already gave me one.”

Antonio gave him the stink eye. “Well, it’s another one.”

Alex decided not to press. It was only a pride thing. “No strings attached?”

Antonio looked exasperated. “No strings attached. Who the hell gives gifts with strings attached?”

Miguel entered at that moment. “Stupid, cruel people.”

Alex felt amused. There was no winning with these two. “Point taken.”

Alex suddenly felt much hungrier.

* * *

Antonio looked amused at Alex's expression. “Another one?”

They had been testing for  _ hours _ . Antonio’s lips twitched. “Yes.”

Alex moaned. “Why?”

Antonio shook a little bit. Alex could tell the man was suppressing laughter. “We still haven’t accessed your abilities in English, Arabic, and Mandarin.”

Alex groaned. “I hate you. And English is my native bloody language. Well, one of them anyway.”

Antonio just gave him a look. “I only want to assign lessons appropriate for your level, Alex.”

Alex sighed loudly. “Fine. But I want dinner first.”

It was about four-thirty local time. Antonio smirked. “That can be arranged.”

Alex sat down. He had the worst headache. “Alright?”

Alex rubbed his eyes. “I have a headache.”

Antonio looked concerned. “Do you need a doctor?”

Alex shook his head. “No, just food.”

Antonio sat with him. The old dude with the testing papers was eyeing them both. “What exactly is your relationship?”

Antonio glared at the man. “That is none of your business.”

The old man looked right back at the man. “The last time you did this, your son- oh, oh.”

Antonio blinked and then looked amused at the man. “I would appreciate it if the news never left my inner circle.”

The old man paled. “Of course.”

He left. Alex felt something twitch internally inside him. “He’s a spy, Antonio.”

The Mexican nodded. “I know.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I’d have appreciated a little warning, you know.”

Antonio sighed. “Sorry.”

Alex snorted. “No, you’re not. It was a test, wasn’t it?”

Antonio blinked. “Yes, it was. You passed admirably.”

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. He did understand the sentiment, but still. “Who does he report to?”

Antonio scowled. “Tom Card. You met him yesterday.”

Alex didn’t like the man. “Huh. He’s in charge, then.”

Antonio drawled. “Indeed.”

Alex paused as dinner was brought out. He resumed speaking after the staff left. “Do you think he’s a racist?”

Antonio shrugged. “I think only Card himself can answer that question. If it makes him underestimate me, so much for the better.”

Alex sighed. “What would he have to gain by pretending to be racist?”

Antonio shrugged. “Potentially, quite a bit. He can gauge our tempers. It allows him to appear different in personality than he is, making counter strategy difficult. Perhaps even the support of his men who might  _ actually  _ be racist. As in being one of the team, that is.”

Alex groaned. “I hate politics.”

Antonio looked amused. “Well, if our plans work, we’ll both have much less of that to worry about.”

After dinner, Alex finished his tests.

* * *

With the tests  _ finally fucking done _ , Alex was free for the rest of the day. It didn’t leave him with much free time, but Alex figured he’d just have to make it. Alex sat at his desk, stared at the wall for a bit, and then pulled out the hand-drawn computer designs. It was time to build his new computer. Somebody had helpfully stuck tools in one of his desk drawers. Alex made a mental note to search for bugs in his room. It could be either genuine bugs or a test from Antonio. Alex didn’t want to fail a single one. He knew the man needed visceral proof before he would treat Alex as a partner. Alex took a deep breath and sighed. It was still better than at home. At least here, he wouldn’t get berated for failing a test. Antonio would just pull similar stuff until he got it right. Alex still didn’t forgive Ian for genetically modifying him. He had no right! The last packet of materials opened with a slice of the letter opener. Alex laid the parts out and began to sort them. It was nice not to have to craft any of the hardware by hand. This was just a basic assembly. Alex eyed the parts to check that they were all there. And then he began assembling. It was surprisingly easy. Then again, he’d spent months visualizing this. And designing the parts. It had taken a lot of skill to reproduce a laptop from scratch. Thankfully, he had been a computer nerd in the past, right down to computer chips. Computer chips - Stormbreaker - Sayle. Alex blinked away the memories. He would need to do something about that. Greif. Rothman. Razim. Grimualdi’s. Ash. It wasn’t a bad start, but that still left the majority alive. Alex popped the screen into place and began screwing the bottom and top part of the keyboard together. Sayle would die. He’d see about Sarov. Cray would die. Nile and Yassen would live for now. Drevin would have to die. He’d have to see that Paul found a better home. Yu would die. McCain would die. The rest of the board was still ambiguous. Alex suspected Mikato, Kroll, and Kurst would be the most trouble. Then again, he knew how to kill them, so it wasn’t like they were a huge obstacle. Well, Kroll had been shot by his colleagues. Mikato was usually reasonable. Kurst...held a grudge. Alex knew that. It was one of the reasons he hesitated to deal with SCORPIA directly. The computer was finished. Alex turned it on. He’d have to install an operating system or two from his flash drives. Dual boot was such a pain but needed in this case. Alex rubbed his eyes. Set-up. Ug. Well, he had a good three more hours before bedtime. Plus, the downloads of his files would take the most time. They contained automatic organization systems. Oh, well. His more interesting computer work would start tomorrow.

* * *

Alex woke up the next day. It was seven in the morning. There was next to no noise. He wondered about that. Perhaps it was because London and Paris were so much noisier. Alex checked his computer. The dual boot was done. Alex wondered if reconnecting with Smithers was the best idea. Then again, the man had never let him down before. Alex took a deep breath and then ported into their server. It was exactly as he left it. Then again, it never hurts to have a healthy suspicion of people. Alex began a full system check and groan. Even on this computer, it would take seven full hours. Still, it was worth it. Alex began his morning exercises. It was going to be a complicated endeavor. Alex moved through his exercises. It was nice to not worry about interruptions. Today, he’d be reviewing information with Antonio. And probably the next few days. It depended on how much information he had gathered. Alex was not sure how high his hopes should be. The man was, after all, basically just a crime boss. They were typically on the other side of things. Alex supposed he had to have been decent enough to stay on top of the death threats, not to mention the CIA plots he was sure existed. Alex moved the doubt out of his mind to focus on his exercises. Alex sighed loudly and got in the shower. One step at a time. Antonio was waiting for him at the breakfast table. “Good morning, Alejandro.”

Alex blinked. “Antonio.”

There was breakfast waiting for them on the table. None of it was foods Alex recognized. “What’s all this?”

Antonio looked amused. “Dishes from around the world. I was feeling a bit whimsical today.”

Alex blinked. “Your poor cook.”

Antonio’s eyes glinted. “It is what I pay her for, Alex.”

Alex decided to go with one of the blander-looking dishes. It looked like porridge. “What’s this?”

Antonio looked fairly entertained. “Tapioca pudding.”

Alex tasted it. It was sweet, but not overly so. The texture was interesting. The rest of their morning went similarly. It was an interesting collection of dishes. Indonesian spiced eggs. Pickled cabbage. Tapioca pudding. Surprisingly decent bamboo and asparagus. A yogurt and mango drink. Antonio must have been in a truly odd culinary mood. Or he was showing off. Something must have shown in his expression. “I can offer far more than just Mexican fare, Alex. I want you to be comfortable.”

Alex blinked. He was just being nice, then. It was strange. British food would just make him homesick. American food would remind him of Jack. “I’m fine with anything, but I prefer vinegar and Asian spice bases.”

Antonio paused. “I’ll speak to Maria.”

And that was that. “I think it’s time we looked at those reports.”

They both left for Antonio’s office.

* * *

Ian Rider was pacing his living room. Alex had fucking left. Again. To go live with a crime lord. Ian didn’t know where he’d fucked up that badly. Maybe it was the injections? They did fuck with your mind. That could very well be it. Right now, he had another problem. Alan Blunt was dead and Tulip had done it. They didn’t exactly have great alibis. Then again, they could pull the “pin the kill job on SCORPIA”. What were they going to do? File a court complaint? Not bloody likely. Ian figured Tulip would go for that angle. Of course, it would help that the poison used had been traced back to Julia Rothman previously. Several times. Sloppy of her, but it would help them out now. It mattered little that Rothman was dead now. The poison involved was linked with SCORPIA and that was what mattered. Although thinking of a dead Julia Rothman put him in the mood for a nice drunken round of “Ding, Dong, The Witch is Dead”. Ian heard a knock at his door. He nearly ripped it off the hinges getting it open. “Any news?”

Tulip Jones stepped inside without invitation. “On Alex? Nothing has changed. Internal Affairs is coming our way.”

Ian sighed and shut the door behind Tulip, careful to lock it before proceeding. “I figured as much. I think we should blame SCORPIA.”

Tulip blinked. “A bold move.”

Ian shrugged. “Not really. We’ve linked the poison back to SCORPIA before. Plus, it is their style. Not to mention, they don’t have a leg to stand on. What are they going to do? Take us to court for slander? Who’s Internal Affairs going to believe? Us, or the lying, mass-murdering, scumbags?”

Jones paused. “You make a good point, Ian.”

Ian grinned. “I always have a good point, Jonesy.”

Jones retorted. “A good pointy knife, maybe.”

Ian clutched at his chest. “I’m mortally offended, Jonesy.”

Jones glared at him. “If you call me Jonesy one more time, I’m putting Cratin on Alex’s case.”

Ian stared at her in horror. “The cretin? Oh, hell no.”

Jones gave him the evil eye. “Then shut the fuck up and focus. We have a murder investigation to get through.”

Ian sighed. “Relax, Tulip. This’ll go down like all of Barker’s usual shenanigans. He’ll grumble, he’ll mumble, and then he’ll find absolutely nothing useful.”

Tulip snorted and then stopped herself mid-snort when she remembered she was now supposed to be the head of MI6 Special Operation. Respectable. Maintaining decorum. “Ian.”

Ian gave her one of his thrice-damned innocent looks. “What?!”

Tulip tried her best not to laugh as she looked him in the eyes. “Decorum. I need to not laugh uncontrollably when Internal Affairs gets here.”

Ian shrugged. “Bloody bastards won’t leave us alone either way. I don’t see why it matters.”

Tulip resisted the groan she wanted to let out. “And that’s why you’ll never be deputy head. That leaves me with Crawley.”

Ian shrugged. “He’s a good pick.”

Tulip swatted him. “And you’re sleeping with him.”

Ian frowned. “And?”

Tulip arched a brow meaningfully at him. “You’re hardly objective.”

Ian shrugged. “Just because I sleep with someone doesn’t mean I can’t be objective. I was right about you, even though we used to sleep together.”

Jones rolled her eyes. “Oh, yes, bring it up, why don’t you?”

Ian shrugged. “It was nice while it lasted, but I like Crawley better.”

Tulip shrugged. “Oh, I’m over it. Don’t flatter yourself, pretty boy.”

Ian grinned. “I knew you still thought I was handsome.”

Tulip whacked him. “Focus. We have two major events going on.”

Ian shrugged, belying how tense he felt inside. “Sure, sure, boss.”

* * *

Brendan Chase felt his fifth headache in two days coming on. Yassen had successfully assassinated the Grimaldi twins. But then, the CIA had to go and raid freaking Razim before they had the chance. Kurst was throwing a fit. Ian Rider’s nephew was missing. The only thing that had gone right this week was Yassen assassinating the Grimaldi Twins. Pierre had gone and wreaked havoc. The CIA had raided Razim. Chase had the email he’d sent to Byrne. At least Alec “I won’t stand again SCORPIA” Pierre seemed to be coming around. Kurst was throwing a shit fit to end all shit fits. Chase was tempted to gun him down mid-board-meeting. He was. Maybe Pierre would do it? Chase was hoping he would, once he joined SCORPIA. Dr. Three knocked on his door. “Yes?”

Three sat. “Wearing a hole in the carpet, are we?”

Chase was tempted to glare. “What a week. I swear, I’m going to choke Pierre the first chance I get.”

Three looked...amused. It was hard to tell. “Wouldn’t that defeat the purpose of recruiting him?”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “I never said I would choke him to death.”

Three looked at him. “I see. Was Yassen successful?”

Chase looked at the man. “Is Yassen ever not?”

Three shrugged. “I see. Kurst is not best pleased.”

Chase felt a surge of anger. “Well, I’m not best pleased with him!”

Three looked at him. “Sorry, Doc, you know how I am.”

Three remained impassive. “You think he’ll go after us.”

Three paused. “Not openly. He would have to admit his plans to get anything done. Zeljan will probably covertly target you, given that it was you who ordered the assassination and paid the bill. Incidentally, what is your excuse for that?”

Chase shrugged. “He stuck his business where it didn't belong.”

The good doctor looked amused. “Nice and vague, then.”

Chase arched a brow. “What’s he going to do, accuse me of spoiling his recruitment plans?”

Three looked amused. “I suppose not. Kroll would shoot him outright, then.”

Chase shook his head. “We’ll have to off that one someday.”

Three didn’t seem surprised. “That was always a given.”

Chase groaned as he looked at the non-Pierre paperwork. “Try not to let your newest toy distract you, Brendan.”

Chase just looked at the man. “Don’t have too much fun with those experiments, Doc.”

The Doctor left Chase to his work. He opened a report. It was a standard assignment. With a standard solution. In a standard format. Goddamnit, he was bored. That was his problem, he supposed. Brendan had thought a lot about how running a criminal empire would work. He’d never thought he would be so bored doing it. Forming SCORPIA had been exciting. Keeping it...was not. Chase flexed his hand. It was time to do paperwork.

* * *

Joe Byrne had what he was pretty sure was a tension headache. They had taken down Razim, successfully. The man was now six feet under. It had almost been too easy. Pierre, whoever he was, was good. Really good. He would kill for an agent like that. They had been searching for that bastard for years. But looking into Pierre created more questions than answers. Who was he? The identity was fake since it had the bare minimum and one bank account attached to it. If Pierre was on his side, why did he give a shit about what SCORPIA thought? If he was on the other side, why had he contacted them at all? If he was a French intelligence agent, why give the CIA any information? If he was, in fact, a freelancer, why didn’t he ask for money? Byrne had absolutely no answers or even theories about the answers to any of these questions. Why was SCORPIA interested enough in the man to steal the file almost as soon as they finished creating it? It had like five sentences in it, for Christ’s sake! Unless...no. Byrne refuses to let SCORPIA eat another good intelligence agent. He’d kidnap the man himself before he let that happen. Joe was tired of letting those goons walk all over them. Sure, they had a better relationship with them than MI6, but that didn’t mean Joe particularly liked SCORPIA. Plus, he kind of liked Pierre’s style, despite all of the havoc it caused. He’d hate to see the man become another boring SCORPIA goon. It was kind of nice to have an unknown ally appear from the woodwork. It gave you some faith in the world. Joe was just not going to think about Alex, right now. He’d run away and joined a cartel. To make matters worse, Razim had effectively distracted them enough that they hadn’t noticed the kid of a high-ranking MI6 agent slinking through their territory. There was also the incident at the Louvre. Ian Rider had been visiting that week. It was all too much crud in one week for Joe not to be suspicious. It could be that Pierre stole from the museum to distract the French intelligence services long enough for Alex to leave the country. But if he was SCORPIA, why not just kidnap Alex outright? None of it added up. In one week, Alan Blunt died under suspicious circumstances, Razim was killed, the Grimaldi Twins were assassinated, a priceless shield was stolen from the Louvre, and the child of a high-ranking MI6 officer turned up living with the head of a drug cartel. Joe felt his head begin to pound. How had they missed all of the signs?

* * *

Yassen was not thrilled with Alex’s antics as “Alec Pierre”, but he would save the self-preservation beatings - he meant lectures - for when Alex was firmly under his purview. At least the identity had led him to somewhat profitable endeavors. The file on the two targets had been top-notch. Yassen would grudgingly admit that Alex had done all of his homework and plenty besides. A lesser man might have been alarmed at Alex’s burgeoning sociopathic tendencies, but Yassen took it as a sign he needed guidance from a real mentor and not Ian Rider’s clumsy, half-assed attempts. What had the man done to set Alex off, anyway? It must have been just terrible. Yassen knew he shouldn’t delight in such things, but he was petty enough to enjoy the family squabbles that were caused by Ian’s own idiocy. Bam! Nile chose that moment to barge in. “Hey, Yas, did you hear about A-”

Yassen clamped a hand over Nile’s mouth. “Do not speak our future apprentice’s name unless you want our plans to fall apart. Not here anyway. And, yes, I did.”

Nile looked at him expectantly and Yassen removed his hand. “Are you going to text him now?”

Yassen narrowed his eyes at Nile. “I was, but I seem to have company, so it can wait.”

Nile sat in a chair and leaned back. “Don’t stop on my account.”

Yassen arched a brow at his counterpart. “If you want to message  _ him _ , then send him your own untraceable phone pair.”

Nile huffed. “Oh, come on, you bastard. I just wanna see his replies and maybe suggest a question or two.”

Yassen sat down. “My parents, unlike yours, were married.”

Nile grinned. “Fuck you, too, Gregorovich. Are you gonna let me look over your shoulder or nah?”

Yassen glared. “You will sit six inches away from me at all times.”

Nile huffed. “I showered four hours ago.” Yassen kept glaring at him. “Not all of us are allergic to human contact. I promise you won’t get acne unless it’s skin-to-skin.”

Yassen replied. “Six. Inches.”

Nile sighed. “Fine. Fine. Die a virgin if you want.”

Nile found himself being choked up against the chair. “For one, Nile, I have had sex. I just prefer to keep a professional distance.”

Nile was released and the chair dropped back down. “For another, I have a modicum of taste and you are most certainly  _ substandard _ .”

Nile felt his mouth drop open. “Now, since I doubt I will ever hear the end of your whining if I do not, I will now commence with the texting.”

Nile looked like he would dearly like to protest being called  _ substandard _ , but thought the better of it and shut up.

* * *

_ -A _

_ Explain everything. Now. _

_ -C _

* * *

Nile just looked at him. “Wow, you’re rude. I’m shocked he texts you back.”

Yassen narrowed an eye in Nile’s direction. Nile gulped.

* * *

_ -C _

_ Ian fucked up. I made a deal with Antonio. I’ll be back for my international exchange program. I really want to do it, but I can’t live in that house anymore. _

_ -A _

* * *

Nile inched closer to the screen. Yassen smacked him once he got closer than six inches. “Ow.”

Yassen's face didn’t have an ounce of sympathy. 

* * *

_ -A _

_ Alex, what did Ian do?  _

_ -C _

* * *

Nile made a whimpering noise as they waited for the reply text to come in. “C’mon, c’mon, spill the goddamn gossip.”

Yassen agreed with the man, but would never admit it. 

* * *

_ -C _

_ He...genetically modified me without permission. It’s not reversible. It hurt pretty bad during, but I’m fine now. I just...can’t anymore. I’m going to do my own thing for a bit, now. _

_ -A _

* * *

“HE DID WHAT?!”

Yassen clamped a hand over Nile’s mouth again. ”Shh. No reason to alert the entire building.”

Nile bit Yassen. “You had better be up to date with your rabies shots.”

Nile scowled. “This is serious, Yassen. I’m going to kill that motherfucker.”

* * *

_ -A _

_ Understandable, but was all the other havoc-wreaking necessary?  _

_ -C _

* * *

Nile glared at him. “You’re a soulless gremlin who sucks the fun out of everything, aren’t you?”

Yassen didn’t grace that with a response.

* * *

_ -C _

_ Yes, yes it was. The others were dangerous, you know. Also, I refuse to work with the Grimaldi Twins or Razim. They’re gross. Tom really wanted that shield from the Louvre and I didn’t harm a hair on Alan Blunt’s creepy-ass head, pinky promise. _

_ -A _

* * *

Nile, naturally, sniggered at Alex’s blasé replies to everything. This was great. Yassen swatted him and sent a shockingly snarky reply.

* * *

_ -A _

_ Such honesty. I’m surprised at you. You usually launch straight into denial-land for the first two texts. _

_ -C _

* * *

“Huh, so that’s Pierre, right?”

Yassen sighed loudly. He was already regretting allowing Nile to be a spectator. “Yes. I will kill you if you mention it again.”

Nile huffed. “Idle thre-”

Nile had a knife pressed against his carotid. “I don’t make idle threats, Nile.”

Nile sighed and leaned back into the couch.

* * *

_ -C _

_ I’ve decided to be less like Ian. Later. _

_ -A _

* * *

Nile huffed. “God, you’re both so rude to each other. I know you both know poshy things and how to use a fish fork.”

Yassen shrugged. “We prefer honesty to courtesy.”

Nile groaned softly.

* * *

_ -A _

_ Good night, then. _

_ -C _

* * *

Nile squawked. “Good night?!  _ Good night _ ?! How come I don’t get a  _ good night _ ?!”

Yassen whacked him. “Because, Alex, unlike you, is twelve.”

Nile huffed. “Fuck you, Gregorovich.”

Yassen concealed his huffing laugh until after Nile stormed out and slammed the door.

* * *

Ian Rider was in the elevator. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Internal Affairs was here. Bastards. Once upon a time, nobody would have been sent and it would have been handled internally. The doors opened to the fourteenth floor. Ian stepped into Alan - no, Tulip’s office. Ian restrained a groan when he saw the usual goons from MI5. At least it was people they could blackmail. Ian had certainly shot enough people for them. “We’ve come to ask you some routine questions.”

Ian sighed. “What do you want to know?”

The pair of suits that he couldn’t remember the names of for the life of him (people under deputy director rarely lasted long enough for him to bother, these days). “Can you give us a rundown of where you’ve been in that last two weeks?”

Ian pulled out his daily planner. It was accurate, minus a few details. “This should suffice for your purposes.”

Jones also had a stack of papers. “Here’s mine.”

Ian was sure it would show that they were both up to their usual antics. “Who do you think caused the death of Alan Blunt?”

It was the moment of truth. Ian looked the man dead in the eyes. “Quite honestly, I think it was SCORPIA.”

The suit raised an eyebrow. “Really? What makes you say that?”

Ian shrugged. “For one, the lab results suggest a poison identical to the one used by Julia Rothman. Plus, this  _ is  _ their style. No real suspects. No precise time frame. It’s like a damn ghost did it.”

The suit paused for a minute. “We will take that under advisement, Agent Rider.”

Ian mentally sighed in relief while keeping his expression the same. “Interim Director Jones, do you share Agent Rider’s opinion?”

Jones gave the man her best stony expression. “I do.”

The suit nodded. “We’ll probably start there as soon as your stories are confirmed.”

The two of them headed out of Tulip’s office. Ian grinned as the door slammed shut. He couldn’t resist giving Tulip a jibe. “So, do you want to have celebratory sex on your desk?”

Ian felt a rolled-up newspaper connect with his face. “No! Get out of my office!”

Ian laughed his ass off and then straightened his face before exiting the office. 

* * *

Nile Griffen was shaking after he closed the door to his room. It was the adrenaline, he supposed.  _ Yassen _ had just  _ choked _ him and pulled a knife. His breathing picked up the pace. Goddamn it. He thought the petty little mind games and the constant weapon waving were done when Julia Rothman “mysteriously” succumbed to a “random” sniper. Then again, he wasn’t able to function without Mrs. Rothman. Working for Chase was strange. He got sent to the shrinks a lot. Chase didn’t seem to understand. Didn’t he want death and destruction? Should he kill more people? Nile’s thoughts switched back to Yassen. Yassen was simpler to deal with. He gave very clear instructions. And absolutely no praise. It was almost like working for Rothman again, except without the very confusing sex. Nile sighed. That was probably a plus in this case. He wasn’t really into dudes. Sure, Yassen might be described mentally as pretty (although nobody who wanted to live would say that out loud), he still wasn’t a woman. Nile was decently sure that Yassen was straight, although nobody who wanted to live would ask him that, either. He sat in his chair trying to catch his bearings. This was what he was used to. Getting called useless and threatened with death. The mad obsession with John Rider and his progeny. Nile groaned. It was simpler when Rothman was alive. At least she hadn’t given him that many hugely open-ended assignments. It was usually going to a place and murder these dudes. Hell, on the good days, she’d even done the equipment paperwork. Logistics seemed to hate him, for some reason. I mean, sure, he never really did his paperwork right, but he wasn’t that bad. At any rate, Nile was beginning to suspect Yassen was going to be running their little triad when Alex finally joined them. He was planning the kidnapping for after Alex’s exchange program since fucking Amanda had to get  _ Chase _ involved. Nile felt like his boss would murder him if he interfered with that little mess. Plus, Alex seemed to want to do it and Nile figured he might be a little less inclined to escape if he was getting kidnapped from his asshole relatives rather than the exchange program he wanted to be a part of. Nile took a deep breath again. He had forgotten how unpleasant working with Yassen was. The man was a motherfucking monster. He had Nile terrified of him. And nobody could blame Nile for that. Even the board was very careful in their dealings with Cossack. Nile heard rumors, very unsavory rumors, pretty much all the time. D’Arc seemed to love him, although Ross would readily admit the man was an antisocial whack job. Nile felt a faint stab of guilt when he realized he’d be subjecting Alex, at the ripe age of fourteen, to that  _ man _ . Oh, well. Alex would probably live, right? Yassen seemed to like him (if it could be called liking him) and was really, really smart. Nile has stolen his assessment tests from the previous year. The results were fantastic. Nile wondered how being a genius assassin might look and then shuddered at the mental image. Alex was going to be fine. Nile wondered whether their plans would change now that Alex had run off and joined up with a South American cartel. Seriously, he could have a place in SCORPIA right now and he picked fucking Antonio. Nile was a little bit bitter. Just a little bit. The cartel was large enough that he and Yassen were not going to risk war with them. Even SCORPIA had limits on the pissing contests and that was one of them. Nile sighed. It would have been easier if he had found a newer, smaller one. That was probably the point, though. Alex had to have figured they were plotting something by now and had gone from MI6 protection to cartel protection. Nile wondered what exactly the kid was up to. There had to be some point in running away to Mexico and then not telling anyone his plans. Nile just wished he knew what. 

* * *

Yassen sighed as Nile left. He felt far more contempt than he really should have. Nile was an idiot. Then again, the man was what? Twenty-two? Yassen supposed some of it could be youth. Then again, he’d been far better with these two little things called  _ discretion _ and  _ secrecy _ at that age. Fucking Nile had almost blown their whole operation. Yassen didn’t regret choking him at all. He’d vaguely considered just killing Nile on the spot, but had decided risking the board’s wrath was not something he wanted to do. Yassen cursed whatever god had decided that Nile would be smart enough to figure out Alex was Alec, but not smart enough to check for cameras before blabbing about sensitive topics in the heart of SCORPIA. Besides, tormenting Nile was kind of a hobby at this point. He’d probably have to lay off once he was past his prime, but for now, he could take Nile in a fight and  _ win _ . Yassen drummed his fingers. Alex was probably about to do something monumentally stupid, but it wasn’t like he was within their reach. Antonio’s cartel was just large enough that the board would be pissed about a gang war. Yassen sighed and vaguely wondered if Chase would buy Nile having an  _ unfortunate accident _ . Probably not. He was the suspicious type and there was only so much even he could get away with. Doing in a board member’s second in command was, tragically, not on that list. He’d be the first suspect, due to the recent drama, as well. Cossack almost hissed but refrained from doing so. He was still tempted to betray Nile to the CIA. The man would make such a great bargaining chip, though. Yassen knew he shouldn’t waste it on being petty, but was sorely tempted to do so anyway. Alex has crazy relatives. It would be so easy to drop an anonymous tip. And such a shame when Ian Rider accidentally hacked Nile to pieces mid-transit. Cossack let out another breath. It was not to be, unfortunately. He was in the compromising position of having murdered Julia Rothman, which was thin ice anyway. Not to mention the Grimaldi Twins and the whole John Rider connection. Kurst was probably already quietly gunning for him. Perhaps something to consider? Maybe Alex had information on the man and his home base. Yassen only knew the vague location of it. Digging around about that stuff was not tolerated. Cossack vaguely wondered whether he could convince Chase and Dr. Three to permit him to gun down Kurst. Especially given the recent events and the succession BS the man had tried to pull. Yassen knew they weren’t happy about it. Chase has been seething for at least three days if Nile’s bitching was anything to go by. Maybe. He’d best get the info from Alex, though. It never hurt to check your incredibly shady sources once in a while. Plus, Alex had a vendetta against the board. Yassen resisted a sigh. It was time for him to go back to his usual study schedule. He’d email his sources in Mexico later. Surely some of them could tell him a bit more about Antonio.

* * *

Alex grinned as he read Jet’s reply to his email. Apparently, she’d liked Professor Emerys’ style. Jet was quite funny when she wanted to be and the plant joke flirting was great. At least, he hoped she was joking. He’d done his best to sound about eighty. Jet had helpfully run full tests on his samples, too. His plant would grow into a glow-in-the-dark blooming vine where the glow would be activated by touching the plant. Jet seemed genuinely excited for a research assignment of any kind. Alex almost felt bad for her. Sure, she taught poisons at assassin school, but at the same time, she had a doctorate in botany. Alex was sure that she’d once hoped to be a doctor researching at a real university or lab. Instead, she’d somehow ended up at Malagasto. Alex remembered that she’d been nicknamed “The Potions Witch”. Jet probably hated that nickname as much as he’d hated being called Cub. Alex scrolled through the lab results again. Thankfully, all his plants in the lab were set on automatic water and fertilizer for the next five or so years. He couldn’t do much about flowers and seeds, but maybe Tom and Ian could take care of his plants. Alex had left Tom the paper copy of the plant care instructions. Tom. Man, he was putting his best friend through a lot, again. Alex groaned. He didn’t deserve Tom. Alex stared at the computer as Jet almost instantly replied to his notes. What time was it in Italy, anyway? Alex mentally counted forward. It had to be about two in the morning, her time. What was she doing up at that hour? Alex hastened to reply to Jet, sending her a few building tips along with the rather unique hydraulic designs that would create some hydroponics that went up to two stories high. As far as he knew, Jet did not participate in night exercises. She was exempt, being a teacher, and all. Was Jet up just for Emerys, an eighty-year-old man on the other side of the world? Alex sighed. Well, there went the “occasional professional correspondence” plan. Jet seemed to want to be online friends. Alex injected enough sexism to keep it interesting. Telling her she shouldn’t go near steel bolts with those delicate feminine hands. She retorted with comments about metal-working at his advanced age. It was a fun little deal. Alex tried not to be too obnoxious, but he also had to keep up the facade of being an old white dude. Which meant benevolent sexism at best. Alex was aiming for light teasing. They ended up with quite the email log since Jet ended up on a tangent after Alex brought up that some poisons could be diluted into medicine. Alex felt a little guilty when he realized she’d stayed on for nearly three hours. Alex gracefully made his excuses (hey, old dudes had health problems and early bedtimes) and then logged off to do his nightly exercise.

* * *

Eijit Binnag rubbed her eyes and noticed it was 5 a.m. local time. Perfect. She could eat breakfast and then nap before getting ready for class. Professor Emerys was great, even if he was a sexist old fart. Jet knew some of it was light teasing since he’d given her both the designs and the complete instructions. Gordon walked in and immediately noticed her lack of sleep. “Late night, Jet?”

Jet barely concealed her flush. “Shut up, Gordon!”

Jet pulled up said Professor’s emails in an attempt to distract herself from the urge to poison Gordon’s tea. Gordon, ever the gossip whore, read over her shoulder. “He sounds about eighty, Jet.”

Jet narrowed her eyes at him. “Is there a point you’re getting to?”

Gordon, turning his voice to resemble an old man’s, replied. “Oh, Jet. I have erectile dysfunction, but you can have sex with my newly discovered tree.”

Jet inhaled, glanced around the cafeteria to check for their bosses, and, seeing no executive board members, promptly whacked Gordon upside the head with her breakfast tray. Gordon didn’t even respond, his eyes dancing merrily with amusement. “Why, Gordon, is that your way of telling me you want plant derivatives for a certain male problem?”

Gordon huffed. “It works just fine. You want a demonstration?”

Jet narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you have a doctorate in botany?”

Gordon rolled his eyes. “No, but I might as well since I haven’t gotten laid in ages.”

Jet whacked him again with her breakfast tray. “I have standards and insane, trigger-happy redheads don’t meet them.”

Gordon pouted. “Oh, Jet, you’ll see.”

Jet rolled her eyes. “No, I won’t.”

D’Arc walked in looking amused. “Am I interrupting something?”

The teachers answered in unison. “No!”

D’Arc’s lips twitched. “Very well, we’ll need to discuss the graduation tests for the students in these files.”


	61. Greetings and Guests

Alex sat up in bed the next morning. He had sinking suspicion today was not going to go well. It was time to kidnap his shrink. Antonio gave him an amused look at breakfast. Alex rolled his eyes. “You know, kidnapping your shrink is such a serial killer thing to do.”

Alex resisted a facepalm. “I know, but Belinda is necessary for my plans.”

Antonio arched a brow. “Look, dude, I have ideas, but I need an actual shrink to help me out with some of the details. Messing with people’s heads is risky otherwise.”

Antonio paused in his breakfast. “True.”

Alex grinned. Sometimes it was nice to have a guardian that was a crime lord. Nobody to stop you when you dragged your shrink into everything. “Are you ready?”

Alex was practically bouncing. “Yep.”

Antonio got up. “Very well, off we go.”

The drive to the cafe was short but tense. “Are you sure she’s going to be there?”

Alex sighed. “About eighty-five percent sure.”

Antonio shrugged. “Worst comes to worst, we can always buy pastries instead.”

Alex snorted. Only Antonio. It was nice to have an adult around for his antics, though. Alex stepped out of the car. Belinda still had about fifteen minutes before she was due to show up, so he ordered a coffee and sat down. Antonio ordered something and sat across from him. Did Antonio not get the whole ‘don’t scare her’ part? Alex hated to admit it, but the man was physically imposing. So, he wasn’t bad looking, he was just very...fit. Antonio grinned. “Coffee at your age?”

Alex scowled. “The tea tastes like dirt on most of the continent.”

Antonio just looked at him. “Would you like me to import it from England?”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Dude, aren’t we about to start a war?”

Antonio grinned. “Not openly for another year, at least.”

Alex shrugged. Antonio would tell him about his plans when he was ready. Alex saw a flash of blonde from the corner of his eye and kept track of it from the corner of his eye. Belinda was here. She came towards the table. Alex drew as fast as possible. “It’s time to relocate, Doc.”

Belinda sharply inhaled and then nodded. Antonio had also drawn under the table. So far, nobody had noticed. Belinda simply sighed. “Okay, where’s the car?”

Alex and Antonio both rose. Alex put away his firearm. Antonio kept his out. Belinda followed them and got into the car without a struggle. “Are you planning to rape me?”

Alex felt his mouth drop open. “God no.”

Belinda looked thoroughly entertained at his reaction. Alex was bright red. “I didn’t think so, but I was just checking.”

Antonio didn’t seem to know what to do. “I’m Antonio, Alex’s new guardian.”

Belinda gave him a scathing look. “Oh?”

Antonio sighed. “Yes, really. Get used to it. You’ll be living in my house.”

Belinda shot Alex a look. “We are talking about this.”

Alex grinned. “Of course. I didn’t kidnap you for your stunning good looks.” 

* * *

Ian groaned once he heard the news. “So, apparently, Alex sent her a note, asking her for a meeting in South America. As far as we can tell, she didn’t know about his missing status and didn’t question the location, due to you having been there before.”

Ian moaned. “Of course not.”

Crawley continued. “She took the plane tickets that she thought were provided by Alex’s grandfather via the shell account.”

Ian looked up. “Then shouldn’t we have traced the computer?”

Crawley sighed. “He did it in a public library before he ran away.”

Ian felt like slamming his head into the desk. “And then, Alex and Antonio pulled guns on her when she showed up.”

Ian closed his eyes. “Maybe he just wanted psychological support?”

Crawley glared. “Maybe he should work out ways to not have me pulling overtime to keep him off Interpol’s most wanted list.”

Ian scowled. “He’s only maybe robbed one museum and kidnapped one retired shrink. Surely they have bigger priorities.”

Crawley just looked at Ian. “One, he’s your nephew. Two, he’s John's son. Most people still think Hunter worked for SCORPIA, remember? They’ll try to nip him in at the bud because of you two.”

Ian groaned. “Why did this have to go down?”

Crawley looked at Ian. “I mean it, Ian. If he pulls one more stunt, we’re not going to be able to keep him off the list.”

Ian groaned. Jones just looked at both of them. “I’ll put out a directive. We want Alex Rider alive and unharmed.”

Ian sighed. “Is it going to be enough?”

Jones snorted. “Not unless Alex’s drug kingpin comes around.”

Ian raised an eyebrow. “Alex’s drug kingpin?”

Jones gave Ian a dry look. “Well, he’s clearly not ours or Joe’s if Antonio is threatening to start a gang war unless we let him have Alex, now is he?”

Ian rubbed his temples. “Evidently not.”

It was just the start of Ian’s shitty day. He had a phone call with Patrick later. The man was  _ furious _ if the email was anything to go by.

* * *

Ian sighed and answered his phone. Patrick wasted absolutely no time ripping into him. “Exactly when did you plan to tell me my grandson had gone missing and is wanted by Interpol?!”

Ian sighed. “About the time of the next family reunion.”

Patrick made a noise that sounded akin to a growl. “And did it not occur to you at all that we could help?! No, no. Clearly, your guardianship of Alex is more important than his health! First, I found out that you and  _ my own daughter _ went behind my back again! Don’t think I don’t know about the injections. Then, I find out Alex is missing?!”

Patrick paused. Ian knew it was too much to hope that he’d had a stroke. “He’s kidnapped his shrink, Ian! I don’t know what he has planned, but I can tell you this. Your guardianship of Alex is hereby  _ revoked _ ! You’re a clinically insane, reckless, irresponsible, selfish moron who shouldn’t be in charge of a goldfish, let alone John and Helen’s son!”

Ian felt like he’d been punched. “At the rate, you’re going, you’ll be lucky to get visitation by the time I’m finished with you!”

Ian couldn’t resist responding. “You’ll have to get him back first, you know.”

Patrick snorted. “It’s three on one. Four, if we count Jason. I think we have the advantage here, Ian Rider.”

Ian huffed. “That may be, but Alex still likes me better.”

Patrick snorted. “I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”

The click on the other end of the line let Ian know he’d been hung up on. Ian sighed. He didn’t have the energy to fight Patrick and find Alex and fend off internal affairs. Ian sat down in the chair. Crawley came into the house shortly after. Jack was still giving him the silent treatment and Tom was looking almost apologetic. Ian snapped up. “Why do you look like you murdered my puppy?”

Tom flinched. “I may have figured out that Alex was planning to run away before he left.”

Ian turned his fully homicidal glare on Tom. “And you didn’t say anything?”

Tom sighed. “I thought he was planning to do it, you know, uh, later.”

Ian facepalmed and groaned into his hand. “Next time Alex so much as breaths in the direction of the door, let me know, will you?”

Tom huffed. “You’re assuming you’ll get him back. Aren’t drug cartels, like, really dangerous?”

Ian sighed. You’d think the twelve-year-old would be the positive one, but no. “Yes, yes they are.”

Jack stared at both of them. “Do you know where Alex is?”

Ian looked at Jack. “Yes. But knowing isn’t the hard part. The guy who has him lives in what amounts to a modern-day fort. Also, he has the sway to start what amounts to a continent-wide three-way war and is not afraid to use it.”

Jack frowned. “Who on Earth wants a son that badly?”

Ian huffed. “He already has a damn son. I don’t know why he needs Alex.”

Jack looked at Ian. “Maybe he wanted a smarter one?”

Ian sighed. “This is a modern-day Helen of Troy situation, except replace wife with a son.”

Jack looked at Ian. “This is what you get when you take him on your visits to crime bosses in the first place.”

Ian knew there was no winning this one.

* * *

Alex stared at the papers and sighed. “We don’t have enough information for the CIA end of this, Antonio.”

Antonio rubbed his eyes. “That’s what I was afraid of.”

Alex looked at the list of cartel people. Antonio dined with them. “Antonio, you dine with most of these people, right?”

Antonio eyed him. “Well, yes.”

Alex paused. “If you called for a giant banquet with all of them attending, would they come?”

Antonio looked pensive. “Most likely.”

Alex looked at him. “Are you sure? Wouldn’t they be suspicious?”

Antonio raised an eyebrow. “What are you getting at?”

Alex shrugged. “I’m suggesting we poison them all. You could take over while they scramble for leadership.”

Antonio exhaled. “It could work. We have enough troops for the ones who would cause trouble. Most would likely just accept my leadership, especially after I remove their leaders.”

Antonio rubbed his eyes. “It would save a lot of resources if we could avoid more violent consolidation issues.”

Alex shrugged. “Plus, Maria’s poisoned people for you before, right?”

Antonio looked at his papers. “Not on this scale before, but it should not be an issue. How is this going to play out at the CIA end? They’ll be suspicious of any of my men.”

Alex looked at Antonio. “This is where I come in. Card already seems interested in acquiring me, right?”

Antonio looked at him. “And?”

Alex grinned. “So, after ‘you’ poison the lot of the drug dealer leadership and preferably their second-in-commands, I’m going to act disgusted and horrified. We’ll let Card have me and I’ll go undercover. I’ve been trained as a spy my whole life, so I’ll have an easier time of it.”

Antonio sighed. “I don’t like the plan.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Have you got a better one?”

Antonio let out a single, long breath. “No. What will the excuse for the banquet be?”

Alex grinned. “You’re announcing your intentions for the next year or so.”

Antonio looked at him. “In May?”

Alex grinned. “It’ll keep them all off-guard, won’t it?”

Antonio sighed. “I’m sure they’ll come either way. Nobody wants to offend me.”

Alex grinned. “Heaven forbid.”

Antonio swats him. “I’ll have you know that I have a fearsome reputation.”

Alex smirked. “I’m sure you do. I’ll need to work on my horrified face.”

Antonio sighed. “Try not to act like a complete sociopath during undercover. You’ll blow up your excuse that way.”

Alex gave Antonio a look. “I know how to act, Antonio.”

The crime boss looked at him. “Let us hope. You’ll need a new suit for tonight.”

Alex pouted. “Do I have to?”

Antonio just looked at him and chuckled. “I’ll have them make it silk. Silk is cooler than wool or polyester, trust me.”

Alex sighed. He knew he was still doomed. “I want to give a cheesy speech.”

Antonio snorted with laughter. “At least you admit it.” 

* * *

Alex sighed and mentally prepared himself for what would likely be a long-term cover assignment, while he was measured for his suit. He almost wished Nile was here. Nile seemed to be good enough with sizes that Alex did not need to go through being measured. Alex wondered what he was supposed to say exactly. What was he supposed to do? There wasn’t exactly a class or a guide for this stuff. He already had his bag packed. It had his computer and a few changes of clothes, along with his other devices. The phones were kept on his person at all times. Alex wondered if he’d be searched or if they’d stick to his luggage. Even if they did, his phones were super locked. If Aunt Crazy hadn’t been able to get in, he doubted that anyone else would. Thankfully, his fitting was now coming to an end. He had night exercises to finish and speeches to plan. Antonio seemed suspicious at his early bedtime but didn’t seem to want to bring it up. Alex had also been continuing his education. His newly perfect memory was great for textbook questions but didn’t exactly write essays for him. It was easy to plow through the rest of Sarov’s medical textbooks. The man had sent over a hundred. Alex wondered why on earth there had been so many. Perhaps Sarov simply didn’t have anything better to throw his money at? There was, after all, no plot to blow up Europe and Russia yet. It was strange, but after memorizing enough about anatomy he could almost visualize a working human body in his head. Alex sighed. It was time for his nightly chat with Jet pretty soon. He did wonder how staying up from three to five in the morning was working for Jet, but didn’t dare ask her about the time zone, just in case. She might get suspicious if he knew where she was. Then again, he had illegally shipped plant to her. Alex wondered what Yassen would have to say about all of this. He did not plan to tell the assassin in advance. Yassen would just get mad and try to stop him. Plus, he had no idea if Nile was involved yet. The takeover would be hard enough without SCORPIA poking its nose in. Plus, they were aiming for a legitimate government, not an unfairly elected corrupt mess. SCORPIA was not getting involved if he could help it. Alex honestly doubted they would bother, though. They’d probably try after the war was over since wars were expensive to muck around in.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was not best pleased with the intelligence reports he was getting from SCORPIA. It was the usual. But they had frustratingly little on Alex’s drug dealer. And Antonio was Alex’s drug dealer since he didn’t listen to anybody else. There was supposedly a huge dinner coming up, but nobody directly connected to SCORPIA had been invited. They could probably get someone from the CIA to cough up the information, but it wasn’t ideal. Cossack resisted a sigh. Nile had been removed from South America. He supposed he could travel there himself. It wasn’t his leave time, and he’d already taken a larger amount this year than standard. Any more and people would start sniffing around. Yassen didn’t want SCORPIA uncovering his and Nile’s plans before they had Alex in hand. They would just complicate things. And potentially murder Alex before Yassen could stop them if Kurst had his way. Yassen would be the first to admit that he was not exactly a saint, but Kurst made him look kind and forgiving. He took a deep breath. Alex.  _ Alex _ . The young teen couldn’t have possibly waited a few more years? Oh, no. Why make everyone’s lives easier? Cossack knew he shouldn’t get so sarcastic in his head. It might leak into other interactions. That would not be acceptable. Despite what Nile claimed, having a reputation as being almost inhuman had its advantages. Like not being bothered for non-critical items. Also, he was quite smug that it had been him and not, say, Nile, that had gotten the assignment to kill Kurst’s designated usurpers. A place on the board was not a casual thing. Yassen wondered what Kurst was thinking. Neither the Grimaldi Twins nor Razim had the mental acumen to be a part of the board. The twins were likely codependent and were strictly medium-level. Razim was barely worth looking at as a local boss, although his connections to the former intelligence services and terrorist organizations might have been enough to get him to medium-level. Perhaps Kurst thought they might easily be manipulated? That was likely the case. The man had an unfortunate penchant for being overly aggressive that the other board members tended to reign in. Three extra votes in his favor would be more than enough to tip the balance. Still, while Yassen was glad not to have to work for any of  _ those people _ , Kurst was going to be particularly unpleasant for the next few months. Either way, Yassen would survive. It was what he’d always done. 

* * *

Zeljan Kurst was not a happy man. Pierre had somehow discovered his plans, investigated his chosen picks for puppets - sorry, fellow board members - and forked the information over to Brendan and Three. It was aggravating. Kurst rarely felt driven to choke the life out of people personally anymore, but Pierre would  _ so _ be worth it. The SCORPIA board member had considered placing an obscenely large bounty on Pierre’s head but did not quite want to risk pissing off Joe Byrne  _ and _ Three  _ and _ Chase. Kurst knew there would likely be an attempt on his life as it was. Just because he had one of the greatest security teams ever to exist and one of the best fortified and guarded bases in the world did not mean he should try very hard to invite death. Kurst liked taunting his enemies into attacking him as much as the next man, but only if he could ensure said enemy’s downfall. Pierre. Kurst felt his eye twitch at the name on the file that he’d demanded from logistics. Well, he may as well read the file.  _ Is well-organized and efficient _ . Well, no shit. He was able to run both a job in intelligence and his side-whatever with Chase.  _ Has no respect for authority or reputation _ . Kurst frowned. Respect could be beaten in.  _ Is creative in approaches to solving problems and removing obstacles. Task and result oriented.  _ Result oriented. Kurst inhaled. He would say so. Pierre could make a valuable asset. There was no doubt about that. Logistics was rarely so complementary. Kurst skimmed the rough history between Pierre and Chase. Brendan had never liked sharing his toys. Then again, neither did he. Apparently, there was quite the cat-and-mouse game between the two. Chase had always been far too fond of intrigue. That wasn’t Zeljan’s problem, though.  _ Has likely been wronged by organization(s) in the past. The mistrust of the command structure is evident. Openly refusing to join the organization outright.  _ Kurst didn’t require trust, only obedience. Hmm. Pierre was a little more creative than the people he usually took for himself. Pierre was also younger, though. They estimated his age at barely past twenty. Logistics had also supposed that Pierre was likely not physically imposing, given the man’s choice in weaponry. Darts. Firebombs. Gas. Firearms. Knives. Not exactly his usual choices. Then again, Cossack was on the shorter end of things and was hugely successful, so it wasn’t like he could judge. Kurst found himself wondering what the man actually looked like. Slim. Lithe. Probably. Kurst wondered if Chase would try one of his little assassination attempts if he stole Pierre away. Probably. Pierre would need some work. Kurst paused. He’s let Chase do the hard work of reeling the man in. In the meantime, he wanted a file that was more facts than suppositions. “Koval. I want more information on Alec Pierre.”

The man blinked. “Will he be joining us, Sir?”

Kurst arched a brow. It was a valid question. “That remains to be seen.”

* * *

Alex walked into the overly large and packed banquet room following Antonio with no small amount of nervousness. Was he really about to do this? Alex quashed his feelings of guilt. These people were drug dealers and probably worse. He inhaled softly. Antonio glanced at him. Alex steeled himself for what he knew would be happening. Antonio stood. The soot-black suit contrasted with Alex’s white outfit. Alex knew the choice was entirely deliberate. “ _ Welcome, honored guests! I’ve called you here today… _ ” Alex tuned out the rest of the speech in favor of people watching. It looked like everyone had already started eating. They had made their entrance deliberately late so people would start without them. “... _ And now Alejandro wants to say a few words. _ ”

Alex kept the grin off his face. His adrenaline surged. “ _ Hello, there. Before we get started, I think a toast is in order.”  _ Alex rose. “ _ To your health.” _

And then the good majority of their guests fell to the ground writing. The poison was doing its job. Alex made a mental note to thank Maria. The CIA contingent was, of course, unharmed. Antonio wasn’t declaring war on them, after all. Alex swallowed, tossed his hair, and continued. “ _ Antonio’s goal is simple. We’re going to consolidate the cartels into one.”  _ Alex mockingly inclined his head towards the CIA. “E Pluribus Unum.”

Alex then sat down as the poisoned people slowly quit writhing. He felt like he was about to pass out as he watched them twitch. Could he even still call himself Alex after this? Antonio stalked over to the CIA table to intimidate them. Alex rose and slipped out. His part was done. Miguel had not been allowed to attend. 

* * *

Alex barely made it back to his room before he threw up. He couldn’t quite get the mental picture of the dead twitching bodies out of his head. This was probably the worst thing he’d ever done up close and personal in both lives. It was one thing to convince the Russians to bomb out a base. It was another thing entirely to poison a whole room full of people and watch as they all died. Alex felt a hand run through his hair. He looked up to see Belinda looking at him with an arched brow. “How was the murder spree?”

Alex felt his lips twitch despite himself. “Efficient.”

Belinda’s face softened. “Mmm. The stage is set for your little play.”

Alex glared at her from over the rim of the toilet. “You don’t seem too broken up.”

Belinda shrugged. “These were rival cartels. The tamest of the business would include drugs. I wouldn’t call it a loss for the world.”

Alex glanced up at her. “Look, Alex, I can tell you this. You’re not alone.”

Alex gave her a skeptical look. “Antonio thinks you’re brilliant. You have your pets from SCORPIA. I highly doubt Ian or your relatives will care too much about a few drug cartel leaders. Also, the CIA will likely stick you with their child assassin program.”

Alex bolted up. “Their what?!”

Belinda looked at him. “Are you so surprised? They have an interrogation facility here, too. Is a facility full of child soldiers beyond belief?”

Alex blinked. “What am I supposed to do?”

Belinda sighed. “For the children? Their lives are hell. All you need to do is offer them a slightly better option.”

Alex sighed. “What about the adults?”

Belinda sighed. “It largely depends on who your mentor ends up being. If you get Lance or Micheal, your chances of befriending or turning them are much better. If you get, say, Peter, you should probably murder him in his sleep along with the rest of the instructors who seem to enjoy their jobs a little too much.”

Alex frowned. “How do you know all of this?”

Belinda sighed. “I used to be part of the program. It’s one of the reasons Patrick picked me.”

Alex pulled a knife on her. “ _ Belinda _ .”

Belinda resisted the urge to flinch back. “I resigned once they went under sixteen, Alex.”

Alex sheathed the knife. “If I find out you lied about that, I  _ will  _ end you.”

Alex grabbed her by her hair. Belinda gasped. “Who  _ else _ ? What other  _ scumbags  _ do I need to hunt down?”

Belinda trembled. “MI5, MI6, CIA, FSB, that’s all I know about.”

Alex dropped her. “When I’m done here,  _ you _ are going to help me track down and put a stop to the rest. There will be  _ no more _ of this shit!”

Belinda barely rose to a kneeling position. “Yes, si-Alex.”

Alex blinked. “Sorry.”

Belinda was shaking hard enough that she couldn’t stand. Alex placed a hand on her and brought her to a standing position. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

Belinda looked wide-eyed at him. “It’s f-fine. I’ve done some questionable things in the past.”

Alex sighed. He hadn’t exactly meant to go SCORPIA on her ass, but still. She did just admit to helping create assassins and what was he supposed to have done? “No, it’s not. I apologize for manhandling you.”

Belinda sighed. “I accept your apology. Now, if I were you, I would think about your approach to Card and his lackeys.”

Alex glanced at her. “Are you going to help?”

Belinda snorted. “Of course.”

* * *

Tom Card was there the next morning. As it turned out, Alex didn’t need to manipulate him at all. There was steel in the man’s eyes. “In exchange for continued peace, we want Alejandro.”

Antonio glared. “You will not kill him, or there will be hell to pay.”

Card blinked. “Of course not. We’re not monsters!”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “I won’t be returned to my guardian, either. He’s a dick.”

Card coughed. It took Alex a second to realize the man had choked back a laugh. “That wasn’t what we had in mind, either.”

Alex glared at the man. There was no need to draw suspicion by acting too submissive. “I’m going to need my shrink.”

Card just looked at him. “You have a shrink?!”

Alex turned a faint shade of pink. “ _ Yes _ .”

Card raised an eyebrow. “Really? It doesn’t show at all.”

Alex snapped. “Oh, fuck you, Card.” The man Card brought with him was sniggering into a handkerchief. Alex gave both of them unimpressed looks and threw up his hands. “Fine, FINE! I’ll fucking go. Give me a few minutes to pack.” The man was now unsuccessfully choking back laughter. Alex gave him a second glance. Well, fuck. It was Lance from that shitty Afghanistan trip. Alex was contemplating murdering Ian as he got back and told Belinda they were going and to pack quickly. Alex made sure to be fucking huffy as he got into the car. Card looked torn between amusement and horror at his attitude. Lance had given up even faking coughing by the time they got into the car. “Oh, shut the fuck up,  _ Larry _ .”

The man gaped. “How’d you know my real name?”

Alex rolled his eyes. “I thought I was deliberately fucking up your current alias, but thanks for that little tidbit.”

Larry groaned. Card was looking outright amused by this point. “So, Alex, how would you like to be around kids your age?”

Alex resisted the urge to eyeroll. “Miguel was fine. And I usually prefer adults.”

Card sighed. “How did you get away with being a rude little shit for this long?”

Alex grinned. “You know how it is, Card-o. I’ll bet you’re never home and don’t even know your kids’ favorite foods either.”

Card pinched the bridge of his nose. “My wife knew what she was getting into, not that it’s any of your business.”

Alex mentally noted that the man did have a wife and kids. It might come in handy. “So, what did you have in mind for this little shit show?”

Belinda arched a brow at him. “Nah, it’s a fair question. You’ll find out once we get there.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Like that’s not suspicious at all. My going theory here is pedophile, just so you know.”

Card looked at him. “Oh, really?”

Alex maintained an innocent expression. “Yep.”

Lance was, once again, chortling away. Alex wondered if he’d traded sexual favors to become a spy because the man’s poker face was currently hitting nonexistent. “Since you seem to find Alex so entertaining, you can be his mentor.”

Card turned toward Alex. “You’ll need to pick a new name.”

Alex grinned. “Xander Onassis, at your service.”

Larry whimpered. “It sounds so fake.”

Alex glared at the man. “Like Lance Larsen doesn’t!”

Larry flipped him off. Card grinned. “Looks like you’ll get along famously.”

Larry glared at Card. “You want  _ me _ , your top assassin, to train the blonde piwi?!”

Card smirked. “Yes, yes, I do.”

Larry groaned. “I want to die.”

Card whacked him. “Quit being melodramatic. I’ll give you more teens to mentor if you don’t.”

Larry squawked. “What?!”

The car stopped and Card exited. “I’ll leave you three to get acquainted. See you in my office in an hour.”

And then promptly vanished.

* * *

Alex looked at Larry. “Is he high or did you drug me?”

Larry sighed. “Nope, sorry kid. Looks like you’re stuck with me. Do you want a beer or something?”

Alex stared at Larry. “One, I’m twelve. Two, it’s not even noon yet.”

Belinda had her face in her hands. Alex didn’t blame her. “I think Beds will take the beer, though.” 

Larry grinned. “I’d appreciate it if you called me Lance in the base. There’s no need for everyone to know my name.”

Alex shrugged. “Sure.”

Larry ruffled his hair. “Good job, Xany.”

Alex jammed his elbow into Larry’s kidney. “It’s Xander.”

Larry grinned. “Sure, sure. I’m just gonna call your shrink Lindy.”

Belinda’s head snaps up. “Fuck no, you won’t.”

Larry’s grin went almost creepily wide. “Oh, whatcha gonna do about it?”

Belinda raised an eyebrow and said in a deadpan. “Sedate you and castrate you while you’re unconscious.”

Larry gulped. “On second thought, I’ll call you whatever you want to be called.”

Belinda smirked. “Good. Shall we proceed on the scenic route to Card’s office?”

Larry sighed and held the door open for her. Alex hopped out. Larry shut the door and the car drove away. Alex felt a sinking suspicion that the feeling of being trapped was not an exaggeration. Belinda followed them. Alex stood slightly behind Larry. They walked into the grey building. Larry smirked and refused to let either of them open any doors. “You people just leave the doors unlocked?”

Larry rolled his eyes. “We’re in the middle of nowhere and we have great fences. Why bother?”

Alex raised an eyebrow but said nothing. Security weakness number one. Yay! Alex was going to sleep  _ so  _ well knowing that these idiots didn’t lock the front door. Belinda, for her part, looked impassive as ever. Alex offered her his hand. He knew unfamiliar places and buildings were particularly rough for her. Belinda took his hand. Alex felt her slowly clench tighter and tighter as they continued to be gawped at for the entire way up to Card’s office. Someone broke the silence once they got to the upper offices. “Micheal?”

The man spit out his coffee at the sight of him. The blue eyes went wide. “This Xander, he’ll be a student at the academy.”

Micheal’s face lit up with equal parts rage and understanding. His tone was ice. “I see.”

Alex took in the sight of his nineteen-year-old friend. “Set anything on fire lately?”

Micheal choked on the sip of coffee he’d attempted to swallow. “As a matter of fact, yes. It’s my job now, you see.”

Alex resisted the slightly hysterical urge to laugh. “You lucky piece of shit. Turning your one true love into a job.”

Micheal rolled his eyes. “Uh, huh. Like you’re any better.”

Lance was now giving them the “hurry the fuck up” look. “We’d better get up to Card’s office.”

Alex was all but dragged away from Micheal. “You know each other?”

Alex shrugged. “State-mandated therapy.”

Lance shrugged. “Shock of the year.”

His tone implied that it very much wasn’t. They were finally at their destination. Lance knocked on the door.

* * *

“Come in.”

Alex glanced around the office. If Blunt’s office was the epitome of grey, Card’s was the epitome of brown. Alex took a look around and ruled out that the man was working here only in an official capacity. Not with mahogany, anyway. “Nice desk.”

Belinda and Lance just looked at him. Card’s lips twitched. “Thank you, Xander. I rather like it, too.”

Card reached into his desk. Alex tensed and suddenly wished he’d had the foresight to have his kevlar. Thankfully, it wasn’t a gun. It was a stapled stack of paper. Lance was also handed one. Card just looked at Belinda, sighed, and pulled out the third packet. “Here’s your introduction to the school. You’ll be going there tomorrow by helicopter. Read it through here, and then ask about questions you might have.”

Alex glanced at the paper and began reading. The introduction was pretty cheesy. “Was this written for ten-year-olds?”

Card sighed. “That is the packet for your age group, Xander.”

Alex continued reading through the school rules. “You’re a principal?”

Card pinched the bridge of his nose. “Yes.”

Alex looked up. “No offense, but you look more like a drill sergeant than a headteacher.”

Card sighed loudly. “It’s school. For child assassins. Keep reading.”

Alex continued. Blah, Blah. No fighting with students except in hand-to-hand combat class. Blah. Blah. Alex got to the curriculum. “This says we have sixteen-hour days.”

Card didn’t even blink. “That is correct, Xander.”

Alex arched a brow. “Eight hours of exercise? We’ll have permanent joint damage by our mid-twenties  _ if  _ we’re lucky.”

Well, normal people would. Alex wasn’t exactly about to admit he was genetically modified not to. “Well, we have generous retirement packages for anyone who makes it to twenty-five.”

Alex knew he wasn’t going to win this one, so he kept reading. “What are the two-hour blocks with our mentors for?”

Card glanced at Lance before answering. “Anything your mentor sees fit to teach you aside from classes. For instance, Lance here specializes in knife work, among other things. That would be where he would instruct you privately.”

Alex sighed. “How do you decide which classes to put us in?”

Card’s eye twitched. Well, he had  _ said _ to ask away. “There is a two-week assessment period when you get there.”

Alex kept reading. It all seemed like shit that Ian and the family taught him or had on the list. “Four hours of normal, non-language curriculum?”

Card looked proud. “Well, for one, we don’t want you without the baseline that normal society members need to blend in. For another, basic education does come in handy.”

Alex paused. “What if I’m at a college graduate level already?”

Card actually smiled. Alex was suddenly concerned about his longevity. “We have elective courses for that. There are things like woodworking, cooking, pop-culture, and financial management.”

Alex paused. Those sounded fun. “You’d still have to take hard science and alternating literature and history courses to satisfy state requirements, but other than that there are no hard requirements.”

State requirements? State requirements? Was Card fucking with him or just clinically insane? Alex read through the rest of the document. It sounded like a twisted private school for the gifted. “What about if I test out of your non-normal curriculum?”

Card raised an eyebrow. “You’d have to talk with your mentor. It’d be either more private lessons or more electives.”

Lance was staring at him. “Read faster, Lance.”

The man grumbled. “Fine, fine.”

Alex read through and had no further questions.

* * *

After they got done reading, the three of them were quickly escorted to quarters. Alex took in the plain room. It was sparse, but not pathetic. Alex leaned back into his bed. “Do you think you’ll test out of special classes?”

Alex glanced at Lance. “Yes.”

Lance perked up. “Could be fun.”

Alex glanced at the man. “Why are you even allowed near small impressionable tweens again?”

Larry barked out a laugh. “Don’t ask me. I was rejected for mentorship by the psych department.”

Alex snorted. “Gee, I wonder why.”

Larry threw a pillow at him. Alex chucked it straight back. Larry grinned. “Well, I’m kind of bad at the whole parent figure thing.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “You’re a sociopathic alcoholic with a mercenary side-job, you mean.”

Lance snorted and then paused. “I’d appreciate it if you kept that quiet.”

Alex sighed. “Fine, but I have goals.”

Lance mock-gasped. “No? You mean that overacted performance was a farce? The shock!”

Alex froze. “You knew?”

Lance sighed. “Kid, I’m an assassin. I’d be dead if your level of shitty acting skills fooled me. Also, I’ve studied tapes of you. Don’t worry, Card didn’t notice.”

Alex groaned. “We’ll work on that and what I call ‘interpersonal skills’ for an hour of mentorship-land.”

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Have you ever actually had a student before?”

Lance sighed. “Not a little kid, no. I was picked up and trained by an assassin at fourteen, though. I am also training up Micheal, so he’ll probably be joining us.”

Alex sighed. “Anyone else?”

Lance shrugged. “Yeah, but they were my adult partners and they all kinda died.”

Alex felt a small stab of sympathy. “I’m sorry.”

Lance shrugged. “It’s a risky line of work.”

Belinda looked startled. “What sort of missions did you do?”

The man sighed. “Cold war stuff. Later on, training uprisings, that sort of thing.”

Belinda eyed him. “Mhm.”

Lance growled. “If you’ve got a problem, spit it out, Shrinky Dink.”

Belinda sighed. “Nothing. Let’s just go to bed. I’m sure the helicopter gets here at an ungodly hour.”

Lance glanced at his pager and groaned. “Four in the morning.”

Alex blurted out. “What about clothes?”

Lance shrugged. “Your luggage is probably in the closet.”

The rest of the evening passed mostly in silence.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Totally stole Koval from Pongnosis. She said it was fine. Relax, people. Also, Lance/Larry will be used interchangeably with that character. There are two other things. One, people have been bringing up shipping Alex. People, he’s physically twelve and mentally twenty. Having him be with someone mentally his age is pedophilia. Having him be with someone physically his age is pedophilia. Needless to say, that makes any shipping awkward for a while. I have not decided if or who Alex will be with. We’ll see. Thing number two: Sarov. It’s happening. I have plans. But this arc with Antonio needs to happen first. It’s important to Alex and Sarov’s relationship later.


	62. The School of Fear

The helicopter had, in fact, arrived on time. Alex hated whoever had decided helicopters should do rides at four in the morning. They should die in a hole somewhere. He was not looking forward to  _ more fucking tests _ . Lance seemed to be in terrible shape. Belinda looked annoyingly implacable as always. She didn’t even have bags under her eyes and Alex was just annoyed. Why were all the adults in his life mutants who didn’t blink at 3 a.m. alarms? Alex blinked blearily as the helicopter blades tha-thonked around them. He knew better than to try to yell over helicopter blades. Lance didn’t. “Not your first ride, is it?”

Alex mentally sighed. “No.”

Lance leaned back, taking the hint for once. They landed about two hours later. Alex had gotten no extra sleep. Lance looked god-awful and Alex felt smug. Hey, he would take it. Card was, surprisingly, on the same damn helicopter. The man was also part of the mutant adult society. He showed no signs of fatigue. The helicopter landed. Card suddenly shouted over the blades. “Remember to duck, eh? Don’t want to be cut in half on the first day!” Alex was suddenly reminded of Gordon Ross. They got off and Card seemed to be in one of his manically cheerful moods. “Welcome to school!”

Alex was having Malagasto flashbacks. Card was bat fuck crazy. So was Lance, come to think of it. They followed Card to his office. “I thought we got the introduction yesterday.”

Card blinked. “Xander, you’re very close to extra etiquette lessons.”

Alex shut his mouth. Lance huffed back a laugh. “You’re here because I wanted to show you where my office was. Also, there are a few housekeeping things.”

Card picked up a phone. “Breakfast for four in my office, please.” Alex would have been impressed, but SCORPIA had much better offices. The office was, once again, far too nice for someone doing a purely legal CIA job. Selling drugs and running a cartel must be lucrative. This entire thing seemed like a rip-off of Malagasto so far. Alex was sure that D’Arc would have been delighted to hear that. Breakfast was served. “What? Examining my furniture?”

Alex arched a brow at the man. “You don’t get mahogany chairs from just your CIA salary. It’s valuable intel.”

Card chuckled. “True, but you knew that already.” Alex sighed. “I hope you’re not shy.” Alex snorted loudly. “Dude, I’ve been the “new kid” so often that it’s old now.”

Card sank into his chair. “Well, if you don’t have any more questions, it’s time to meet the staff and the other students.”

Alex blinked. Alright, then.

* * *

Card got up. Lance followed behind him. They followed him into what looked like a cafeteria. Alex saw ten children of various ages. The youngest one looked about ten. His heart nearly stopped. The oldest one looked about seventeen. Alex inhaled. “Hi, I’m Xander, your new classmate.” Card smiled. Alex was unsure if it was fake. It probably was. The oldest one stepped forward. “I’m Kenneth.”

He was tall and very fit. The build was closer to “Yassen” than “Nile”, but still. Alex shook his hand. The children seemed to be going in birth order. A slim blonde stepped forward. “Abigail.”

Alex learned that the others were named Crystal, John, Kelly, Kristen, Archer, Aiden, Eric, and Madison. There were seven teachers. “There are Mr. Smith, Ms. Allen, Mr. Perez, Mr. Davis, Ms. Davis - they’re not married to each other - Mr. Johnson, Ms. Miller, and I teach several subjects here.”

Alex blinked. “Nice to meet all of you.”

It was a complete lie. He didn’t want to get to know too many of them very well, just in case he had to kill them later. “These are Lance and Belinda. Lance is Xander’s mentor and Belinda is...just Xander’s.”

Alex felt his mouth drop open. The man-made him sound like a bloody human trafficker. “How does that work?”

Abigail’s question was probably valid. “They all live together as you do with your mentors.” Alex was suddenly glad Malagasto did not have the extra-creepy parent/child dynamic added. It would have been super awkward. Lance and Belinda stared at Card in horror. Alex choked back his laughter at their facial expressions. He resisted the urge to snark the ever-loving shit out of them. He was still not quite sure that they wouldn’t smother him in his sleep. Alex was glad that he had an eidetic memory now. The blueprints had been in the packet Card had given him to memorize. Alex would still want to explore a bit, but he mostly knew his way now that he had two reference points. Also, he now knew all the names. “He’ll be off to take his assessments now. I hope you’ll all get along.” Alex was swept off to a very plain white room with twelve desks. He was the only kid in the room. Lance and Belinda were behind him. Card smiled lightly. Alex could now tell it was fake. “Just try your best.” Alex had a sinking suspicion people who didn’t pass high enough for their age were killed. Well, talk about motivation. Alex sighed as the first test was placed in front of him. Time to take a bunch of tests, again.

* * *

Alex had finished the last test the previous day. He was called up to the office shortly after. He felt like he hadn’t done too bad. There were some awful questions on there. Alex had no idea how to correctly fillet a goddamn fish, thank you very much. There had been others that he’d answered a lot better. Alec was almost certain he’d aced the biology exam and the history set of exams. The English language and grammar had asked about regional variations in the US. Alec had suddenly been very grateful for his and Ian’s impromptu survival trip. Alex had taken a look at art history, cursed, and done his best, but was pretty sure he failed anything past the impressionist movement. Paintings were not his favorite subject. Current events were in the bag. Pop culture was most assuredly not. Computer knowledge had been way too easy. The special classes were harder to gauge. Card interrupted his thought train. “I’m sure you’re very eager to know how you did.”

Alex looked at the man. “Yes, I am.”

Card looked amused. “Alright, I won’t keep you waiting too long. Here you go!” Alex looked down at the document. 

* * *

Xander Onassis

Initial Assessment Report

State Educational Requirements:

World History 1: B-

World History 2: A

World Wars: A

Cold War: A

Modern Era: A

US History: B-

Overall: A-

Notes: There seems to have been a previous focus on anything relevant to current geopolitics. Repeat courses are not recommended.

Biology: A

Chemistry: A

Physics: A

Mathematics: A

Earth Science: C+

Overall: A-

Notes: Really? He’s up to a third-year college student in biology, math, and chemistry, but can barely state the definition of a tectonic plate. 

Academy Emphasis Courses:

Botany: A

Engineering: A

Weapons History: A

Weapons Theory: A

Weapons Practical (Age-Adjusted): B+

Unarmed Combat Theory: A

Unarmed Combat Practical (Age-Adjusted): A

CPR Certification Test: Pass

First Aid Knowledge: Pass

Diver’s Certification Test: Pass

Driver’s Knowledge (Theory and Practical): Pass

Other vehicles: None

Cotillion: B-

Overall: A

Notes: Courses marked as “Pass” are Pass/Fail only. Given that motor vehicles and tanks are covered, boats, helicopters, and planes are the next logical step. Motorcycles should probably wait until the student can right one on his own.

Elective Courses:

Hunting and Snares: A

Cooking: D-

Financial Management: B

Popular Culture: D

Electronics: A

General Arts: F

Fabric Arts: F

English Literature: A

English Poetry: D-

Home Economics: C

Music (Theory and Instrumental): Fail

Overall: N/A

Notes: Would somebody please let this kid have a hobby?!

Languages:

English: Native Speaker

German: Native Speaker

French: Native Speaker

Spanish: Fluent

Russian: Fluent

Japanese: Passable

Italian: Passable

Chinese: Needs improvement

Arabic (Pashto/Dari): Needs improvement

Overall: The student is far above average in language learning.

Notes: Seriously?! Did his past guardian beat him or something?

* * *

Alex looked up from his grades. “Are they allowed to write that?”

Card choked. “Write what?”

Alex flushed. “Didn’t you read it before you gave it to me? Look under notes.”

Lance picked that moment to barge in. “Sorry, I’m late. What did I miss?”

Card looked at Alex’s report card. “Xander’s class consultation.”

Lance roared. “What?!”

Card smirked. “I’m messing with you, Lance. We just got done looking at his report card.”

Lance promptly ripped it out of Card’s hand and skimmed through it. “Pssh, not bad. Who needs a nancy little course like Home Economics anyway?”

Card glared at Lance. “Alex does, if he got a C or below.”

Alex blinked. “What about, y’know, updates to current events or electronics?”

Card gave him a thankful look. Alex resisted a shudder. “I’m glad you asked, Xander. Students get to watch the news during dinner. If you’re curious about certain developments, you can look it up in the library during your mentorship hours.”

Alex paused. “What about homework and languages?”

Card grinned. “Great news! Lance here knows Arabic and Ms. Davis can teach you Chinese.”

Alex blinked. “Why not let me finish mastering Japanese or Italian?”

Card waved his hand at that. “The other two are more strategically important.”

Alex mentally sighed. “Er, yeah. Arabic’s no problem. I can’t help you with the squiggles the Chinese call a language, though.”

Card beamed. “Excellent! That leaves you with options.”

Lance glared at the man. “So, for sciences, you’ll be stuck in Earth Science. I’m sorry, but they’ll insist if I don’t. I think we’ll go with the standard options for your physical education.”

Card paused and drew a breath. “Now, your advanced courses were already decided upon, needs of the department, and all that jazz. I think you’ll like them.”

Alex sighed. “What about electives?”

Lance jumped in. “I vote hunting!”

Card glared. “Shut up and let him pick you hypermasculine shit!”

Alex paused. “Well, since I tested out of hunting -” Alex was interrupted by Lance’s moan of dismay. “I think I’d like Cooking and Home Economics.”

Lance squawked, but Card shut down any sexist commentary. “Well, one of you has to cook and pick up after the other. After all, Lance here burnt water once. He should have a partner who can help him in survival situations.”

Lance’s eye twitched, but he didn’t say anything. A page printed out and was handed to Alex. “Well, it looks like this is the end of our course consultation. Out! Both of you!”

Alex got up and was swiftly followed out by Lance.

* * *

Xander Onassis

Course Schedule

Breakfast - 6:30

Mentorship Morning (Arabic suggested) - 7:00

Physical Education (Conditioning) - 8:00

Physical Education (Combat) - 10:00

Lunch Break - 12:00

Physical Education (Ballet) - 12:30

Language Class (Chinese) - 2:30

Earth Science - 3:30

Advanced Engineering (Bomb Deconstruction) - 4:30

Cooking - 5:30

Dinner - 6:30

Home Economics - 7:30

Advanced Botany (Antidotes) - 8:30

The History of Espionage and Devices - 9:30

Mentorship Evening (Instructor’s Preference) - 10:30

* * *

“Wait, what about homework?”

Lance grinned. “You only get it on the weekends.”

Alex blinked. “We get weekends off?”

Lance shrugged. “You get a half-day on Saturday and a whole day on Sunday. Apparently, the President insisted.” Lance trailed off. “So, it’s unpacking and move in together day-”

Alex blinked. “Okay.”

Lance sighed. “We’re going to be sharing a set of rooms.”

Alex sighed. “Is there a point you’re trying to get across?”

Lance blinked. “Uh, we’re sharing a bathroom. I hope you ain’t shy.”

Alex snorted loudly. “I used to play sports and I’m sure everyone knows how to knock.”

Lance looked relieved. “Why’d you bring it up?”

Lance rubbed his eyes. “It was an issue in the past with some of the students.”

Alex shrugged. “Okay, cool.”

They got to what Alex presumed was their set of rooms. Lance knocked on the door. “Open up, unless you’re fucking. Not that you should be!”

Alex saw the exasperated faces of Michael and Belinda as the door opened. “I guess you guys already unpacked, then.”

Michael shrugged. “Yep.”

Belinda sighed. Larry twitched. “So, I hope you like your room. It’s a little on the small side, but-”

Belinda snapped. “Oh, do shut up, Larsen. Xander has lived in worse. You’ve been on edge for days.”

It took Alex a second to realize Lance had been nervous. “You’re a real heartless cunt, you know that, right?  _ I,  _ unlike you, actually care if Alex is comfortable. Then again, I’m not surprised. I don’t know who came up with the women are nurturers crock of shit. My own mother-”

Lance was thankfully cut off by Belinda. “Oh, get inside, Lance. He’s hardly going to reject you just because he didn’t get the master bedroom.”

Lance fluffed Alex’s hair. “Let’s go in.”

They both walked past Michael and Belinda. Lance opened the door to his room. It was surprisingly decent.

* * *

The walls were bare but colored with blue and gold wallpaper. The desk was made of oak and had a small bookshelf with what Alex assumed were textbooks and maybe some light reading. There were school supplies laid out in the drawers and pens and pencils in a cup on the desk. His luggage had been brought to the room. The closet was small but would fit two weeks’ worth of clothes. Alex peeked in. There were seven sets of black pants and black shirts. There was a gym bag with three sets of exercise clothes. A hamper was next to the door. There was a small dresser at the foot of the bed and a small safe in the bottom of the closet. The desk had a decent chair and there was a small futon with a reading table and light in the corner. The window had curtains that matched the wallpaper. “You can, uh, ask for posters and stuff.”

Larry wasn’t exactly twitching, but Alex could now sense the almost nervous air he gave off. “It’s nice.”

Lance’s face looked surprised. “Didn’t you come from a rich family, though?”

Alex was tempted to laugh in the man’s face but refrained. “I once lived in the wilderness for over three months.”

Lance winced. “Oh.”

Larry plopped down on his bed. “So, uh, what kind of wall decorations do you want.”

Alex snorted. “I don’t care.”

Lance flipped open the magazine. “C’mon, pick some stuff.”

Alex looked at him. “What about towels?”

Lance looked at him. “Linen closet in the bathroom.” Lance sighed. “Are you gonna pick or am I ordering you Power Puff Girls themed stuff?”

Alex sat next to Lance. The magazine was once again flipped open. Alex did his best to avoid touching the man. He didn’t like strangers touching him. “Cologne. Tsk. Tsk.”

Lance lightly swatted him. “You’ve got some and deodorant in the bathroom.”

Alex blinked. “But it can give you away on stealth missions.”

Lance sighed and bopped him with the magazine. “You’re at school, kid. Wear the goddamn cologne and deodorant like a civilized person.”

Alex sighed and picked out the most generic-looking ocean pictures he could find in the magazine. “That’s literally the most generic one!”

Alex glared at Lance. “I don’t want to regret my decor choices in a few years.”

Lance sighed. “You get new ones once a year, kid.”

Alex grinned. Well, he had no intention of staying that long, but Lance didn’t know that. Alex picked some slightly less generic nature scenes. Lance’s skeptical look said it all. “Alright, kid. I’m gonna pick some decorations for you since you won’t tell me what you want. Looks like Shrinky is going to be good for something after all.”

With that, the man left him to unpack.

* * *

Lance was not in a good mood. “Belinda, I just spent half an hour trying to get the kid to pick something other than generic sea paintings. Do you know what he picked? Generic forest paintings!”

Belinda sighed. “Xander’s previous guardian tended to both withhold items to Xander’s preferences and reject any that he did show.”

Lance groaned. “So, what does that mean?”

Belinda sighed. “You’ll have to build rapport with him before he’ll let so much as a favorite color slip.”

Lance pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, what does he like?”

Belinda smirked. “James Bond. His aunt got him the latest movie for his birthday.”

Michael cut in. “Fire. We used to set fires together until his uncle booted me out of England for  _ daring to corrupt  _ his precious nephew.”

Larry opened the magazine and marked some “cooler” stuff. “Thank you, Jesus.”

Belinda smirked. “We need to talk.”

Lance sighed. “Something tells me uncle shithead is not going to help my blood pressure.”

Belinda rolled her eyes. “Xander isn’t exactly your average student. He has  _ goals _ .”

Lance shrugged. “Yeah, I figured. I’m not sure how he passed drama class with that shit he calls acting. Are you gonna explain?”

Belinda sighed. They were probably bugged. “Xander has decided to right the wrongs were done to children by the criminal and black ops worlds.”

That statement could mean a lot of things. It could be as benign as voting rights for his fellow assassins. It could be as bloody as a mass takeover. Michael stared wide-eyed at Belinda. He  _ knew _ . Lance shrugged. “I’ve got one condition.”

Belinda sighed and hoped there were no sexual favors involved. “Yes?”

Lance grinned. “When the time comes, I want in. And a heads-up.”

Belinda figured it wasn’t too bad. “Why?”

Lance and Michael looked at each other. “Xany’s not the only one who takes issue here, but he’s the only one remotely close to leader material.”

Belinda leaned back. “Fair enough.”

Two more allies for Alex. He’d better at least give her a nice retirement.

* * *

Alex was surprised to find that all of his possessions were intact. Even the computer. Then again, Alex figured they thought his classes would keep him out of trouble. Like Malagasto. What was that shit with Lance? He was trying not to give anything away that might be used later. Belinda had done a good job recruiting, but it was always a risk. Then again, Alex suspected she knew both of these two before. He would just have to trust her. For now, anyway. At least he’d get cool wall decor out of those two being treacherous shits. Alex set up his stuff. His civilian clothes went into the closet. Alex was shocked to find Kevlar in the dresser. There was a note on the desk stating that the gym clothes were dress code in the gym, the armor was to be worn at all times, and the black clothes were uniform. Their laundry was done once a week, but only if they put it in the hamper. Alex was a little creeped out to find underwear in the correct size in the dresser. He decided to check in case there were more surprises. The gym bag had typical gym clothes and ballet clothes. There were pointe and soft-toed shoes and what looked like other clothing. How far did they expect him to get before his shoe size changed? Alex checked through the desk. There was an empty book bag propped next to it. The bookbag had a pencil bag inside. Alex sighed and began packing his bag for school as much as he could. He’d also have to organize notebooks and folders for all of his classes before they began. The textbooks were pretty obvious. Alex decided to finish unpacking first. There was still most of the day to go and he’d done his workout before Card called the class consultation at eight. Alex set his computer on the desk. It was pretty much the finishing touch. He stuck his luggage under the bed. Alex grabbed his first textbook. He knew he could probably read them all before the day was over. Since his memory was perfect now, that would also give him the advantage of having memorized the texts before class. Alex was hoping to test out of Earth Science in less than a month. Who gave a fuck about tectonic plates when he could be learning useful stuff? Like the biology and anatomy that would help him in his new goal to become a surgeon. Alex wasn’t going to let a little thing like an assassination career stop him.  _ Yassen became a helicopter pilot _ . Alex grabbed the first textbook. Home Economics should be easy reading.

* * *

Belinda paused in her musings about their current situation. She knew Lance/Larry and Michael would be easy to pick up. They had both lodged protests with the department about the program. Not to mention, Lance seemed to actually like Alex and Michael had once been close friends with him. Then again, you never really knew. Card had been unpopular for some time with most of the elite operatives. It was a combination of removing them from primary combat roles and dead children. Nobody liked dead children. Xander would have the advantage of his eidetic memory, but his age would work against him. Belinda had made sure to pressure Lance into giving Alex Saturday evenings most of Sunday off. It had almost been too easy. One pleading look at Michael and letting it slip that his previous guardian had done no such thing had them both ready to tear Ian Rider’s throat out. It had gotten the job done, though. “What about therapy for Xander?”

It was the first time Michael had brought anything up on his own. “Xander does not benefit from traditional therapy. We would be better off talking over some benign activity than in a formal setting, I think. I’ll be relying on you two for some of it.”

Lance looked up from the dinner menu. Alex had claimed he didn’t care and refused to state a preference. Belinda knew that was a lie. “How’s that?”

Belinda pursed her lips. “At his current age, in a normal family, Xander would now begin withdrawing from primarily female influences and moving into primarily male influences. In other words, he needs male role models in addition to myself.”

Lance grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll teach him how to be a man.”

Michael rolled his eyes but gave her a considering look. “Has he had the talk?”

Belinda’s tart expression emerged against her will. “I believe he was fully informed at the age of seven about matters regarding biology, safe sex, consent, and partner abuse. A refresher pamphlet or two probably wouldn’t be out of line, however.”

Lance looked outraged. “Pamphlet?! We’ll just hire some hookers once he goes legal and-”

Belinda cut him off with a glare. “You will do nothing of the sort. Xander is morally opposed to prostitution.”

Michael sighed in the corner he was in. “What does he do for fun?”

Belinda’s eyes twinkled. “He breaks into black ops facilities and steals experimental animals for pets.”

Michael perked up. “Really?”

Belinda snorted. “No, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen Alex do anything for fun. Perhaps gardening and caring for his dog. I’m not sure if the sports were his idea or his uncle’s.”

Michael groaned. “Well, setting fires is out for now. Did you ask him what he wants to do for a living?”

Belinda blinked. “He has a hero complex a mile wide and decided on being a surgeon for now.”

Lance groaned. “Of fucking course.”

Michael grinned. “Well, you’re the only one here with a degree.”

Belinda gave him a dry look. “Not to mention a high school diploma.”

Michael huffed. “I got my GED.”

Lance shrugged. “I dropped out at twelve. Look at me now.”

Belinda was saved from her reply by Alex barging in. “Did you guys order dinner yet?”

Lance looked slightly guilty. “Uh, no.”

Alex looked impatient. “Could you hurry it up? And please try to keep the bickering down. I’m only two-thirds of the way through memorizing my textbooks and I keep hearing my name.”

The adults shared a bemused look as the boy closed his door.

* * *

Dinner had arrived in twenty minutes. Lance had managed to get Belinda to cough up some foods Xander liked and had taken some educated guesses. He figured the kid was going to be good, but memorizing ALL the textbooks before class? Belinda had explained that Xander had perfect recall, but Lance had never really understood what that meant until now. All the textbooks in one night were a bit much. Maybe he should interrupt Xander? Lance poked his head in Xander’s room. “You know you’re only supposed to have read the first chapter of each, right?”

Xander shrugged. “I aim to be prepared.”

Lance blinked. “Are you alright?”

Xander’s reply was sarcastic. “Yes, after getting impressed into assassin school for child soldiers, I’m feeling spectacular.”

Lance sat down next to Xander. “Look, kid, they won’t make you kill anyone until they think you’re ready.”

Alex glared stubbornly at Lance. “You’re never really ready to kill somebody for the first time.”

Lance sat down next to him. Alex felt a hand on his shoulder. “Yeah, I know. I think you already know, too.” Lance paused, then continued. “Xander, how many people have you killed?”

Alex frowned. “Why do you care?”

Lance sighed. “It’s important to me.”

Alex glared up at Lance. “Why?”

Lance sighed. “Don’t take that tone with me. I’m here to help you, not to judge you. Besides, I’m sure you had good reasons.”

Alex’s face softened. “Fine. I don’t know. There were...explosions and stuff.”

Alex refused to count the ones from his current life and, in the past life, he’d lost count. “Give me your best estimate, then.”

Alex pinched his nose. “Above ten and under twenty, depending on your definition of murder.”

Lance mentally groaned. “What does that mean?”

Alex blinked. “Well, it depends if you count conspiracy.”

Lance huffed. “Fine, fine. I won’t ask again. Asking you shit is like pulling teeth.”

Alex looked down and bit his lip. “Sorry.”

Lance waved him off. “Nah, I was way nastier at your age.”

Alex blinked. “Really?”

Lance grinned. “Can you believe they convicted me of a murder some other guy did at a kangaroo court?”

Alex didn’t bat an eyelid. “Yep.”

Lance snorted. “You’re so damn cynical. Then again, once I got out I murdered the guy who framed me and my asshat stepdad.”

Alex was not at all surprised. “Why?”

Lance shrugged. “He didn’t treat me well and  _ mother dearest  _ took his side. He choked her to death while I was in juvie. She was a stupid, weak bint.”

Alex blinked. “Er, sorry.”

Lance grinned madly. Alex suddenly questioned the man’s sanity. “Don’t be. It’ll be fine. You’ll see.”

Lance got up. “Goodnight, Kid.”

Alex nearly gaped at the subject change. “Goodnight, Lance.”

He had more reading to do.

* * *

Alex was gently shaken awake by a very grumpy Lance at promptly six in the morning. “Rise and shine, Xany.”

He groaned into his pillow. Lance patted his shoulder sympathetically. “I know, I hate shit at the crack of dawn, too. But you have like six hours of exercise and really should eat breakfast.”

With that cheerful little thought, Alex got up. After about three cups of caffeinated tea, he was now feeling up to being social. His classmates seemed to be hovering at arm’s length, just in case he turned out to be a violent lunatic. Lance was on his fifth cup of coffee. “I have a headache.”

Card seemed to magically appear behind them. “You know, unless you drink water, coffee is not going to help your hangover.”

Lance bared his teeth. “Fuck you, Boss.”

There was a shocked gasp from more than a few of the adults. Alex looked up from his eggs. “Lance.”

Lance locked eyes with him. “Xander.”

Alex did his best to channel Yassen’s most impassive look. Everyone had their eyes on the three of them. Alex arched an eyebrow and tilted his head towards the rest of the room. “Fine. Fine. Sorry, Boss. Don’t talk to me before ten in the morning.”

Card seemed a little too interested in the entire exchange. “It’s all good, Lance. Just try to set a better example.”

Alex saw that he was receiving pitying looks from a good portion of the student body and a few of the adults. Card swept through the rest of the room. “Alright, you guys know what time it is.”

Everyone got up. Alex padded lightly behind Lance into a classroom. Ms. Davis was waiting for them. There was a slightly hysterical edge to her gaze. “I’m supervising!”

Her lips trembled. It took Alex a second to realize she was terrified of Lance. “Since when is mentorship hour supervised?!”

Ms. Davis was braver than Alex had thought. “Since Card stuck a child with  _ you _ !”

The venom in her voice surprised Alex. “And what the hell is  _ that _ supposed to mean?!”

Ms. Davis suddenly looked ferocious. “You’re the worst sociopath the CIA has ever seen! None of your partners have survived longer than a year! You’re unworthy of a potted plant, much less a child!”

Lance looked furious. “Oh, yeah?! Well, at least I wasn’t passed up, unlike you! You couldn’t talk a cat out of a goddamned paper bag!”

Alex sat down in his chair and opened the Arabic textbook. He had a feeling this might take a while. The movement drew the eyes of both adults. Ms. Davis glared at Lance and then poked him in the chest and hissed. “This argument is far from done, Larson, but we’re wasting class time.”

With that, she sat primly in the corner while Lance gave him a surprisingly good Arabic lesson.

* * *

Alex walked into his four-hour gym class not knowing what to expect. “Hi, I’m Mr. Perez. I supervise the conditioning classes. Ms. Allen teaches the ballet and combat classes for younger children.”

Alex shrugged. “Cool. What’s first?”

Perez grinned. “How about some nice stretches?”

Alex resisted a snort. It was a long two hours of stretches and warm-ups. Then came combat class. Ms. Allen was the complete opposite of Perez. He was almost laidback. She walked in and Alex was instantly reminded of Yermalov. “Today, we’ll be learning about defense primarily. The first thing you need to know is that one punch from a grown man will probably bring you down, and break several bones.” The woman then demonstrated dodging techniques and had them follow her. The second half of the class was them attempting to dodge random attacks at all angles from the woman. She was evil. It reminded him of all the real assassins he had met. Allen had also called the entire class to watch him. “If you look here, Xander has the right idea.”

The woman then swung a sword that Alex side-stepped. “Since he seems to have a good instinct for dodging, I’m going to go a bit harder on him. Clear the floor. The other children went and sat by the mirror. Allen counted to make sure they were all there and then went nuts. Alex was forced to use just about all of his focus to dodge. Alex realized a bit later than he would like to admit that she was trying to back him into a corner. He smirked inwardly. Looks like judo class would come in handy. Alex let her back him to about halfway there before he made his move. She swung at his head. Alex immediately dropped, swung his foot out - darn, she dodged it - and rolled into a standing position safely out of her reach. “A good idea, but you need to practice more. If you had let me back you up a few feet further, I would not have been able to dodge your tripping efforts as easily.” Alex breathed a sigh of relief when she let him sit down. He was hungry and an adrenaline rushes slightly before noon were not fun. Allen moved on to the other students, stopping just short of actually touching them. Yermalov would have let them bruise. Alex supposed that was the difference here. The classes were designed for children. The other kids still seemed to be observing him. Not that Alex could blame them for having trust issues. Alex made sure to give Maddison and Eric faint smiles. They were the closest to his biological age, so would likely be the first to approach him. Maddison touched her face. Eric looked faintly alarmed. They seemed nervous and almost...afraid of him. But why? He hadn’t done anything to make them afraid yet. Alex decided to press them for answers during lunch.

* * *

Alex swooped in after they both sat down. The two wouldn’t be able to move without seeming rude under the teachers’ watchful gaze. “Hi, I’m Xander.”

Eric blinked. “Yeah, we know.”

Alex resisted the urge to eyeroll. “Okay, spill. I’m fucking twelve. Why does everyone look at me like they’re afraid of me or something?”

Surprisingly, it was Madison who spoke up. “Yes, exactly. Nobody receives an adult assassin mentor until they’ve already killed somebody. Before, it’s one of the teachers.”

Madison lowered her voice. “I heard the adults arguing about it. They said you were too young and thought you should get a teacher anyway.”

Alex wanted to curse Card to the fiery depths of hell. “Is that all?”

Eric piped in. “No. There’s also the fact that all of your theory classes are with the older students.”

Alex blinked. “Even Earth Sciences?”

Eric waved his hand. “You’ll probably test out of it in like three weeks. Especially since your mentor threw a fit and demanded you be put in something you liked.”

Alex blinked. “Say I memorized the textbook. Could I take the test after and get a good grade?”

Eric stared at him. “Yeah. Anything at our level is mostly memorization.”

Xander grinned. “Score.”

Eric looked terrified. “You memorized the textbook already, didn’t you?”

Alex blinked. “Maybe.”

Madison stared with a horrified sort of awe. “You did. Oh my God, you did.”

Eric inhaled, his eyes wide. “What are you?”

The kid had said that a little too loudly and drawn enraged looks from some of the teachers. Xander smiled grimly, and deliberately raised his voice. He didn’t want Eric to be in trouble. The kid looked petrified, especially since Lance was one of the people glaring. “Don’t worry, Eric. I know I’m a genetic freak of nature. I remember everything I see and hear. Perfectly. Forever.”

Somehow, the adults looked even more pissed at that. Madison and Eric’s expressions were awed. Alex supposed they were not old enough for intellectual jealousy yet. “So, what did you do? Spend yesterday memorizing the textbooks?”

Alex let a little tooth into his grin. “Yep.”

Eric breathed out. “Wicked.”

Madison was giving him a calculating look. “So, if you read a file would you-”

Ms. Davis swooped in. “That’s enough, you two. This isn’t a circus and Xander isn’t part of a freak show! He’s your classmate and a _ human being  _ with feelings!”

Xander shrugged. “It’s alright. They were just curious.”

Ms. Davis was not at all mollified. “I’ll be lecturing both of you on manners and respectful ways to ask questions later.”

Madison and Eric both looked down at their plates. “Yes, Ma’am.”

The rest of lunch was filled with an awkward silence.

* * *

After lunch was ballet. If Alex had thought Ms. Allen was strict in combat class, she took strict to a whole new level in ballet class. He’d never known how much work and detail went into a single ballet step. Alex felt funny in that class. After being shown what to do and corrected once or twice, it was almost instinctive for him. The injections. Alex felt a flicker of rage and something else. There was no way anyone could fairly compete with him. Ian had made him almost...superhuman. It was a horrifying thought. Ms. Allen pulled him aside after class. “I’ve noticed a certain...disparity between you and your classmates.” Alex felt a stab of guilt. The woman’s face softened. “You shouldn’t feel bad about it, Xander. I should know. I was a prima ballerina once. Not everyone can make it to prima ballerina, but I worked for it. I was also lucky. Very lucky. It’s genetics, you know.”

Alex looked at her. “Oh?”

Ms. Allen continued. “I think you’ll be great one day, but you’ll still have to work hard. If you keep it up, I’ll have you en pointe in less than a year.”

The woman paused. “Tell me, Xander. If I were to have Card switch your conditioning hour to ballet, and I mean private lessons with me, what would you say?”

Alex thought about it. He liked Perez well enough, but...he felt like Allen’s class was much less lax. He felt like he was accomplishing something with her. Xander looked up into her eyes. “I think I would like that, as long as there are no hard feelings.”

Ms. Allen’s smile was almost terrifying. Alex was reminded of the time he agreed to lessons with Yermalov in the past life. “Don’t worry, Perez will understand.”


	63. Busier and Busier

Chinese class with Ms. Davis was a little sparse. Alex double-checked the room. He was, in fact, the only student. “Er, am I the only one learning Chinese?”

Ms. Davis smiled kindly. “At this moment, yes. We might be joined by others later on.”

Alex blinked. “Why?”

Ms. Davis smiled. “The older students have other concerns and the younger students hadn’t begun learning Chinese beforehand. The whole point of the school is to bring everyone up to speed and work with the level you started with.”

Alex let out a sigh. Ms. Davis smiled. Alex assumed that it was supposed to be reassuring. He opened the textbook for a grueling hour of Chinese. Earth Science was awkward. Mr. Smith seemed nice enough. “Name the three kinds of rock.”

Alex blinked. “Igneous, metamorphic, and sedimentary.”

Mr. Smith blinked. “Did you fail the test deliberately?”

Alex gaped. “No.”

Mr. Smith paused. “Did you really memorize the whole textbook?”

Alex sighed. “Yes.”

Mr. Smith cracked the book open to a random page. “Why is the sky blue?”

Alex thought back to his memory of the book. “The light is scattered by molecules in the atmosphere.”

Mr. Smith snapped the book shut. “I believe you should retake the assessment this weekend. You have my class hour free this week, just in case you want to study.”

He was shocked. Ian would have probably have made him start something else right away. Alex noticed Madison and Eric in class, along with Aiden and Archer. Alex cracked open the textbook for a quick reread. The other students were staring. “And with that, we’ll have a pop-quiz for the rest of you.”

Alex adjusted his textbook so that the kids wouldn’t see his smirk as their groans went throughout the class. Some things never changed, no matter what school you went to. Advanced Engineering aka defusing bombs was with the older children. In this class, Mr. Smith was far less jovial. Alex presumed that it was because the subject matter was far more serious to get wrong. “Today, we’ll be going over the more common Mossad bombs. Most of you should know how to assemble one by now. We’ll start with a little thought exercise.”

Alex had a headache after that class, but at least it was a class that was not based on memorization. Abigail and Kenneth seemed to be more social today. Crystal, John, Kelly, Kristen were about the same. Alex presumed the younger students didn’t take the class. “Hope you don’t feel too bad. Smith is rough on everyone for the first week.”

It was Kenneth. “It’s fine. I’ve had grumpier teachers, y’know.”

Abigail stepped in. “Really? What did they-”

Abigail was cut off by Mr. Smith. “That’s quite enough, Abigail. Quit being an incessant gossip and get to your next class.”

Abigail flushed and peeled off. Mr. Smith looked at him a bit kindlier than he had in the bomb class. “You don’t need to answer anybody’s questions if they make you feel uncomfortable, Xander.”

Alex flushed. “It’s fine.”

Mr. Smith smirked and a bit of Scottish accent slipped through. “I bet you'd say that bleedin’ out on the floor. Run off to class, now.”

Alex was suddenly reminded of Gordon Ross as he walked to cooking class. The cooking class was kind of fun. Ms. Miller seemed like kind of a pushover, but Alex was not about to test that theory. He wanted to be a model student here. “Welcome, class.”

Alex immediately noticed that he was the only boy in the class. It was interesting. You would think that here, of all places, would be free of gender roles and stereotypes. The class seemed to be beginning. Alex noticed that all of the girls, from Abigail to Madison, were in the class. Alex was paired with Madison and Abigail. The other girls, Crystal, Kelly, and Kristen, were paired together. “Now that you all have your groups, we’re going to go over safety in the kitchen.”

Alex prepared himself for a boring lecture on hot stoves and kitchen knife sharpness. At least the next class promised to be interesting. 

* * *

Dinner that night was promising to be interesting. And by interesting, Alex meant it was about to get more political than a SCORPIA board meeting. Card sat down at the table. That was surprising. He glanced at Madison. “He does that every time we get a new student for the first week or so.”

Alex nodded to himself. Abigail, Madison, and Eric seemed to have flocked to him. Kenneth seemed torn between being friends and not being friends. Alex wondered why. Ms. Davis was giving the two youngest students dagger-eyes. Eric broke first. “Erm, I’m sorry for asking rude questions.”

Madison piped up. “Me too.”

It was far from the most elaborate apology he’d ever received, but it was probably one of the sincerer ones. Xander smiled softly. “That’s alright.”

Lance did not look best pleased with his easy acceptance, but Alex did not give a singular fuck. After the two younger students were shooed away from him in favor of Card and Lance, Abigail looked at him appraisingly. “That was nice of you.”

Alex shrugged. “It’s not a big deal to me. I’m used to being gawked at because of what I can do.”

Abigail gave him another appraising look but left it as the adult men sat down. Card stared at Alex. Alex had learned to never make the first move. And the value of patience. As the silence went near the five-minute mark, the news blared in the background. “...Rider is currently the youngest person on Interpol’s most-wanted list in the entire history of Interpol. He is considered dangerous, despite his age, and wanted for questioning about several crimes, including the Louvre robbery and-”

Card blinked. “So, Xander, how are you settling in?”

Xander smirked. “It’s nicer than I thought it was going to be.”

Card sighed. “What did you think we were going to do? Stick you in a cell and waterboard you? We save that for the terrorists.”

Alex arched a brow. “I would prefer not to talk about any affiliations I may or may not have made here.”

Card shrugged. “Your choice.”

Alex felt his eye twitch. Why was he being so goddamned trusting? “I’d like to send and receive mail under several aliases.”

Card pinched his nose. “Talk with your mentor. We don’t do mail here, but if Lance is in a good mood, he might let you get a post box in the nearby town.”

Lance had just bitten into a large roll. “Sure.”

Card drew in a long breath. Ms. Davis sent him what Alex could only describe as an “I told you so” look. Ms. Davis waited until Lance had taken another bite before opening with her line. “I think we should have Lance supervised in the evening mentorship sessions.”

Lance choked and swallowed. “Hell no, you hag bi-”

Card covered the man’s mouth. “I assure you, I trust Lance to be the height of proprietary behavior.”

Everyone except Alex gave the man a look that questioned his sanity. Alex choked back a laugh as Lance very clearly bit Card’s hand. This drew more skeptical looks from the adults. “Now, I think we’ll have a compromise since you all seem hell-bent on hating Lance. We’ll have Belinda and Micheal supervise the lessons. How about that?”

The question was stated as an order. The adults were all left fuming, minus Card, and Lance. Lance had the grace to not look smug.

* * *

Home Economics was, once again, taught by Ms. Miller. Alex wondered if he should be surprised or not. The class was pretty uneventful. Alex noticed that every single student was in attendance. They went over what they were going to do in the class, which amounted to a motley mix of budgeting, basic dishes, nutrition, sewing, how to set a table, how to do laundry with weird textiles (what the hell was baize?!), child development, organization, and basic care for sick people. And then got a sheet of checks that Miller said they’d be using in the next class. Alex had a feeling he knew which activity it was but had no wish to spoil it for the class. Apparently, not losing their “checkbook” was part of the exercise. Alex stuck it in the folder he’d made for the class before he went to the next class. Advanced Botany aka Antidotes only had himself, Abigail, and Kenneth. Alex watched a staredown between the two before Abigail slinked off to the desk next to him and Kenneth took the seat to share the desk. The class was taught by Ms. Johnson, a soft-spoken woman. “Welcome to antidotes. Hopefully, you’ll never need it. First question, does the antidote need to be the same amount as the poison?”

Alex waited for Kenneth and Abigail to raise their hand for a good thirty seconds. “I object to the premise of the question. For once, we have no idea about the chemical reactions involved, whether “amount” refers to limiting reagents, or even of what your definition of the amount is.”

Ms. Johnson looked amused. “You could have just answered no.”

Alex gave her a look. “I could, but I suspect your question was fundamentally flawed for a reason.”

Ms. Johnson inclined her head, “Indeed. The first lesson of the class. Always question the premise of anything poison-related. Is my guess right? Will the antidote do more harm than good? Will my antidote potentially kill?”

Ms. Johnson then went on with the rest of the lesson. The first stage would be how to identify if and when you were poisoned. The second half would be the tricky part. Actual antidotes and their creation and design were a lot harder than poison. Alex suspected he wasn’t the only one with a headache at the end of the lesson. Jet had only gone over poisons and their symptoms and onset rates. There had been nothing about antidotes in her curriculum. The history class was taught by Card. Alex noticed that it was only the four eldest students and him. It was a class on the rise and fall of intelligence agencies and the devices they liked to use. Alex knew it would probably start around the era of the world wars. Card didn’t waste any time as he launched into the early theory of military intelligence. Alex was surprised when he started with Sun Tzu and Ancient Egypt. It was a good thing he’d brought a notebook. Even with perfect audio recall, he’d still rather have some of this written down. Alex felt like his brain was about to explode by the time Card let them leave. To his surprise, their mentors greeted them at the door, including Lance. Alex was surprised when the man offered his hand but grudgingly took it. He wondered what mentorship hour would hold.

* * *

Lance, despite the heated glares almost all the adults were giving him, looked excited. “So, how were your classes? I heard Allen wants to switch you to more ballet and Smith wants you to test out of Earth Science this weekend. I told the shits you wouldn’t need the class, but they insisted.”

The heated glares were now directed at Card. Alex resisted the urge to cackle. “Uh, Lance, maybe don’t call your coworkers “the shits” if you want them to like you. Just a tip.”

Lance grinned. “Maybe I don’t care, so I act how I want.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Xany, we’re going to ditch the losers-”

Alex raised a brow. “They aren’t losers.”

Lance continued. “And do something fun.”

Alex was quickly escorted to their room set. The first thing he noticed was the packages in the living room. “What’s all this?”

Lance grinned. “Room decorations. I also realized I have no fucking clue when your birthday is, so I just got you a present anyway. I made Micheal and Beds get you one, too.”

Alex stared at the man. “Thanks.”

Lance continued. “So, tonight, we’re mostly decorating your room. I should probably warn you. I...er...thought generic forest painting seemed a little boring so I got you James Bond and pretty fire pictures instead.”

Alex grinned. “That’s great! How did you know?!”

Lance grinned. “A little birdie told me.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Was the birdie blond and our current housemate?”

Lance shrugged. “Maybe. Now, do you want to decorate or not?”

Alex spent a good part of an hour sticking posters on a wall. They had no sooner finished than Lance bounced to the living room. “Time for presents! Open mine first!”

Alex wondered if his mentor was secretly his age. It would explain a lot. Alex ripped open the first one. “Daggers?”

Lance grinned. They were in leather holsters. “You attached them to your wrist and ankle. I remembered you were packing heat in Afghanistan and thought you might be more comfortable if you had weapons of some sort. I’ll teach you how to use ‘em starting tomorrow.”

Alex blinked. “Thank you.”

Micheal looked excited. “Do mine next!”

Alex opened it. There was a key, a note with an address, and a lighter. “Are you sure the lighter is a good idea?”

Micheal grinned. “No, but try not to burn down the whole school.”

Alex paused. “What’s the key to?”

Micheal grinned. “A post office box. I promise not to open too much of your mail.”

Alex rolled his eyes, knowing the man was joking. Belinda looked bemused at the scene. “Don’t forget mine.”

Alex opened it. It was a book about brainwashing, undoing brainwashing, and how to turn spies. “Uh, thanks. I think?”

Belinda looked amused. “Our sessions will be on Saturday. The first half will be your therapy. The second half will be a discussion of these topics.”

Alex looked at her. “Uh, where?”

Belinda smirked. “The nearby town has an arts and crafts center. We’ll be doing projects and talking.”

Alex felt relieved. Sitting and  _ just talking  _ was not his forte. He had brought Fenrir to all of their little sessions for a reason. Alex glanced at the clock. “I should probably start getting ready for bed about now.”

He’d have to send a few people some messages. A certain bank in Switzerland had messages to forward to him, Sarov would need an address, and, if the relatives seemed like they could behave, he might send them the address. Tom could probably also use a postcard or something.

* * *

Ian Rider was not pleased with the newest development. Patrick Beckett was here. In his bloody house. “Ian. Rider.”

Ian refused to show the man an ounce of fear. “What do you want?”

Patrick’s eyes flashed. “My grandson safe and your head on a platter. Sadly, I might not get either for some time.”

Ian had not expected the man to lunge for him and was pinned. He was suddenly being choked. “Tell me, did you poison Alan Blunt?”

Ian wheezed. “No.”

Patrick glared. “Did you have anything to do with it?”

Ian blinked as spots went across his vision. He hissed through gritted teeth. “Yes.”

Patrick blinked. “Good. Now, do you have an idea how angry I am at you for letting Alex fall into the hands of a drug dealer and a CIA goon?”

Ian smirked. “I can imagine.”

Patrick released him. Ian could feel the bruises forming. “Fortunately for us, Card has decided Alex will make a wonderful assassin and is training him in a facility for that purpose. It is also fortunate that Belinda has an in on Alex and has given me the basic gist of his plans for those two.”

Patrick continued. “You should be proud, Ian, he’s decided to save the children from their CIA enslavers.”

Ian groaned. Patrick was mocking him. “Oh, shut up, you old fart and listen here-”

Ian was cut off by a punch to the face that landed him on the ground. “No, you  _ listen _ , you arrogant swine. I will never forgive you if anything happens to him, so  _ I  _ will take over from here.”

Ian got up. “But-”

Patrick cut him off. “But nothing, you’ve failed to control him, you’ve failed to bond with him, and you’ve failed to raise him as your own.”

Ian bit his lip. “It’s not like that!”

Patrick stared at him. The steel-blue irises were unforgiving. “Yes, it is.”

Patrick paced the length of his living room. “What do you plan to do exactly?”

Patrick frowned. “Watch and wait. I’m eager to see what he can do on his own with what education we’ve given him. I’ll step in if he’s in mortal danger, but I think both of us should back off for now. Clearly, the injections pushed him over the edge.”

Ian sighed. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

Patrick glanced at him. “Your intentions were good, but your approach was poor, not unlike the rest of your missions.”

Ian gaped at the man. “That’s hardly fair.”

Patrick sneered. “Life isn’t fair, you insipid moron. In my one hundred and twenty years of life, I’ve lived through both World Wars, the Cold War, and the death of my daughter. I plan to live through all two hundred or so years of my life. Do you?”

Ian glared at him. “Yes.”

Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Then start acting like it. And for god’s sake, if Alex ever does return, get some family counseling.”

Patrick moved to leave. Ian recovered enough to retort. “Hey Pot, this is Kettle. I’m calling to let you know we’re both still black.”

Ian received a cool glare in reply. “Take my advice or don’t. But remember, Alex is only going to accept your subpar parenting as long as he doesn’t know any better. And he’s getting about the age where he’ll start knowing better.”

Patrick swept out of the room.

* * *

Yassen Gregorovich was minding his own business when the TV at Malagasto was turned on by an over-enthusiastic Gordon Ross in the teachers’ lounge to the news channel. “Hey guys, look at this!”

It was a news story. About Alex Rider. Being on Interpol’s most-wanted list. The youngest person ever. Wanted for questioning about mass murder, murder, terrorism, theft of national artifacts, and arson in several countries. Apparently, they had dug up some grainy footage of Alex setting a fire a few years ago. “He’s a dead ringer for Hunter, isn’t he?!”

Jet gave Ross a look that suggested he’s killed a few too many brain cells in a drinking binge. “That  _ is  _ Hunter’s son.”

Gordon started cackling. “Wanted for stealing a gold shield from the Louvre?! The fucking frogs probably lost it in storage!”

Jet seemed to give up on words and smacked Gordon with a lunch tray just as Brendan Chase walked in. The looks of horror they both gave him were comical. “Wait. I’ve met that kid before.”

Yassen felt his heart stutter. Gordon’s eyes widened. “Blondie from that fancy restaurant I went to with Joe. He was a rude little fuck, too.”

Yassen occasionally wanted to strangle Alex. “I liked him. Huh, who would have thought? Wish I’d gone with my gut feeling, ignored Joe, and kidnapped him. He seems fun to have around.” 

Chase trailed off and wandered out, not even bothering to comment on the lunch tray incident. “Carry on.”

Yassen let out the breath he’d been holding. God damn it, Alex. Fucking fancy restaurants? He was going to beat that particular taste out of the kid. “Think he noticed it was John’s kid?”

Gordon. Fucking. Ross. Was. Going. To. Die. Jet pursed her lips. “Perhaps.”

Gordon was still cackling as Nile walked in. Tears were streaming down the man’s face. “I love John’s genes.”

Nile raised an eyebrow and gingerly sat down next to Yassen. “Is he drunk again?”

Gordon gasped. “No, no. Look at this.”

Yassen rolled his eyes as Gordon unmuted the news. Nile stared at Alex’s picture on TV and looked at Yassen quizzically. He made a gesture that suggested texting while Gordon continued to cackle with glee. Yassen gave him a singular nod back and went back to his dinner. They would most certainly be texting Alex soon. Whether he would answer was another question.

* * *

The rest of the week was tiring, but not quite as bad as the family lesson days. For one, Alex was getting more sleep. There was a lot less pressure on him than on Ian and his lot. Sure, he was undercover, but he had to wait to do anything undercover-ish. Alex knew he should probably wait about a month before he tried anything. He packed up his stuff after a grueling six hours of ballet and self-defense. Thankfully, they had to change clothes and shower after. They had only physical classes on Saturday. “So, are you ready?”

Alex was a little surprised to find all three of the adults supposedly responsible for him in the living room. “Sure, just let me put my gym stuff in the hamper. It reeks.”

Lance grinned. Alex was glad he was allowed to wear civvies on weekends. It cut down on change times. The adults must have noticed his skeptical look. “We’re going to the nearest town to introduce you to your new mailbox and head shrinking art place.”

Alex was tempted to grab some devices but refrained. Belinda might think he was getting paranoid. “Okay.”

Lance grinned at his mildly skeptical look. “Oh, cheer up.”

Xander arched a brow. “I can’t imagine you in anything art related.”

Lance snorted. “Nah, me and Micheal will be in the forge.”

Alex frowned. “It must be some art center if it has an entire forge.”

Lance shrugged. “I think Card funds it in secret. He’s probably hoping it will keep us from going insane or getting drunk and doing stupid shit.”

Alex got in the obnoxiously generic looking car. The adults followed. “Does it work?”

Lance laughed as he started the engine. “Hell, no.”

The drive into town was surprisingly short. Alex noticed right away that most of the locals gave them a wide berth. It immediately triggered several mental alarms for him. Belinda led him towards a surprisingly clean building. The door banged open. “Welcome! I’m Enobia!”

Alex noticed she was blind. “Er, hi.” Belinda looked at him. “I’m Xander.”

The blonde woman greeted the woman who Alex assumed was the owner with a handshake. “Belinda.”

The woman was practically bouncing. “I’m so glad to have visitors! There hasn’t been a child here in years!”

Xander frowned. That was odd. Craft centers normally drew families. If they were adult-only, they’d draw older teens, surely? Enobia continued. “So, what do you two want to get started on today?”

Belinda frowned. “Perhaps some painting?”

Alex just stared wide-eyed. Ian had never let him take any art classes that weren’t art history. He’d said that there were many more useful classes for him to take. It had all been languages and history and grammar. “Works for me.”

Alex sighed as they picked up the paint. It was probably going to be a mess. “Now, Xander, I want you to paint whatever you want.”

Alex glanced at the paint and then the page. “I’m not sure.”

Belinda looked at him. “Try for something meaningful.”

Alex saw the yellow paint and immediately thought of Fenrir’s eyes. “Alright.” 

* * *

Three hours, headache, and a blobby mess later, Alex was done. Belinda looked at his “piece”. “Incidentally, what was it supposed to be?”

Xander gave her a dry look. “My dog.”

Belinda seemed to be trying to be diplomatic. “That explains the yellow eyes. No matter, we’ll try something else next week.”

Alex frowned. “You’re not mad?”

Belinda snorted. “No, painting is more of a learned skill anyway. You did say this was the first time you’d ever even picked up a paintbrush, so a blobby mess was to be expected.”

The woman began walking at a brisker pace. “So, what do Lance and Micheal have planned?”

They stepped into an elevator. “I expect we’ll find out soon enough.”

Alex was surprised to find the two of them constructing a model tank together. “I believe it is time to go.”

Lance grinned. “Score.”

He and Micheal put up their tools before walking out. Micheal began wandering towards the road. “Right, we’ll visit the post office.”

They stepped into the tiniest post office Alex had ever seen. The owner walked out. “Do you have anything to mail?”

Alex pulled out letters for Tom, Sarov, and Patrick. Marion had supplied their address when he’d asked for it before he left. “Actually, yes.”

The man smiled. “Ah, your cousin explained how the post boxes work, right?”

Alex shrugged. “Yes, thank you.”

The man looked at Micheal. “He’s polite.”

The man tallied up the total on Alex’s letters. “That will be eight dollars and twenty-seven cents.”

Alex moved to pull out his money and was stilled by a look from both Lance and Micheal. Belinda looked bemused. Lance whipped out the cash and paid. The owner looked puzzled but seemed to shrug it off. “Like I’d let you pay for letters to family.”

Alex tried not to let his mouth drop open. “Thanks,  _ Dad _ .”

Lance ignored the faint sarcasm and all but dragged him from the shop. 

* * *

“What now?”

Lance grinned. “Now, we have some fun. Technically, you’re not allowed near the school firing ranges until you’re fourteen, but Belinda says you’ve been taught. Also, this ain’t the school. I was thinking about friendly competition.”

Alex felt his competitive spirit immediately jump. “What do I get if I win?”

Lance grinned. “We’re going to see a movie and the winner gets picking rights.”

Micheal looked suspicious. “What happens to the loser?”

Lance grinned. “Hmm. I can’t think of anything kid-friendly.”

Belinda slinked in. “They have to answer three questions from the victor fully and honestly.”

Alex gave her the stink eye. “Are you participating?”

Belinda snorted. “No, no. I wouldn’t dream of interfering with your plans.”

Alex cursed. He was good at shooting, but beating some of the best in the CIA was a little different. “Okay, I’m game.”

Xander cursed the day that he'd been born with a competitive spirit. Micheal grinned. It was the slightly predatory grin Alex had previously associated with him burning buildings to the ground. They went to a shooting gallery. Seriously, what kind of town was this? Alex was starting to think it wasn’t a town, but a shell that employed the occasional local. Would they build a town just for CIA agents and bribable locals, though? The shooting gallery had nobody in it except the proprietor. This was getting suspicious. Very suspicious. Nonetheless, Alex was going to do his best to win the competition so he wouldn’t have to answer those damn questions. Lance sauntered over to the gun counter. “Which ones have you shot with before?”

Alex had shot with nearly all of them but wasn’t going to say so. Alex picked one of the usual ones he liked from Smith & Wesson. It was a Kimber 1911 model. They were pretty decent. Much better than some of the guns he’d had the displeasure of firing. Lance was practically bouncing. “Good choice.”

The owner silently set up the range, eyeing him as though he wanted to say something, but refraining. Lance grinned. “Ready?”

Alex put on his earmuffs and picked up the gun. It wasn’t like his hearing could be damaged this way anymore, but he wasn’t going to say anything. Alex took a deep breath and slid into his usual mode for instinctive firing. The targets were normal-shaped bullseyes. Alex let out the breath he’d been holding and fired. There were only him and the targets, now.

* * *

After about two hours of shooting, Lance called it quits. “Okay, counting time.”

Alex quietly cursed. He had a sinking suspicion that he'd lost. It just wasn’t clear how badly. Lance had ninety-five percent accuracy. Ninety. Fucking. Five. He was as bad as Yassen. Micheal had gotten a slightly healthier score of ninety-two. Alex checked his. Despite shaving off percentage points in his practice away from Yassen and Ian, he knew he was probably somewhere in the eighties. “Eighty-seven. That’s higher than I was expecting.”

Alex pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. You two are  _ unnatural _ .”

Micheal looked amused. Lance snorted and ruffled his hair. “Aw, baby Xany, don’t worry. Give it a few months and you’ll be as unnatural as us.”

Belinda seemed to be choking back a laugh at Alex’s expression. “Well, it’s not like you had to participate.”

Alex huffed. “You all conspired against me and I know it.”

None of them even tried to deny it. Micheal ruffled his hair some more. “Don’t worry, Xander. Dinner is coming next.”

Alex was still shocked when Lance took them all out for steak and paid for the whole thing. “One, I’m in charge. Two, what’s the point of a mercenary side-gig if I don’t use the money to buy things.”

Lance had even let him get away with getting the wine pairings. Then again, Alex was ninety percent sure Lance had started drinking at like age ten. “Alright, I’m thinking of an action movie here.  _ Mission Impossible _ sounds great.” 

Alex had no protests. Lance was grinning. “Popcorn! And snacks!”

Alex just looked at him. “It’s not a movie without them!”

Micheal shrugged and offered to split the popcorn with him and Belinda. Alex noticed that even though Lance called it “toxic waste” he didn’t waste any time coating his popcorn in insane amounts of liquid butter. They got out of the movie at about eight o’clock. “Now, it’s not going to be like this every time, but this was kind of a special occasion. Besides, Beds says your guardian sucked at remembering your birthday, so think of it as a late birthday celebration.”

Alex grinned. “It was nice anyway.”

Lance shrugged. “We’ll eat out every time, though. I hate cafeteria food.”

Belinda gave him an amused look. “You could cook your own.”

Lance gave her a look that suggested she’d lost the plot. “Nah, too much work. Besides, we’re sampling American culture. Xany has been deprived,  _ deprived _ , I tell you!”

Alex gave the man a look. “I was raised in Britain, not Sub-Saharan Africa.”

Lance waved his hand. “Same difference.”

Micheal looked wide-eyed as Alex choked back a laugh. The blatant xenophobia shouldn’t be funny, but it kind of was. Belinda cut off any impending arguments on high European culture. “And back to the car we go.”

Lance drove them all back. “I’m surprised we’re allowed off-campus.”

Lance glanced around. “Well, technically, there’s no rule against it, but nobody does it. I just don’t think a deprived child like you should be stuck in a school twenty-four seven.”

Alex just looked at Belinda. “Is there any point in trying to convince him that anyone non-American can possibly have been middle-class?”

Belinda gave him a dry look. “Absolutely none. His international experiences were mostly post world war two.”

Alex nodded. “Ah.” 

* * *

Lance got them back before sundown. They were immediately mobbed by Card and the teachers. “Where the hell were you?”

Lance grinned lazily. “Out. On an educational field trip.”

Allen took one look at both of them. “Kid’s drunk.”

Card gave Lance a very unimpressed look. “Lance!”

Lance huffed. “We did educational stuff before that. Like shooting. And therapy.”

Card was wearing a skeptical expression. “You took a twelve-year-old shooting?”

Lance shrugged. “It only said we couldn’t use the  _ campus _ range, not that we couldn’t take them to shoot.”

Card inhaled sharply. “Lance.”

Lance raised an eyebrow. “It’s a valuable life skill. And I think your rules are dumb.”

Card threw up his hands. “Fine. Fine. We’re talking about this after Xander’s in bed.”

Alex blinked. He was not expecting that. Belinda and Micheal stepped in front of him. Lance gestured forward. “C’mon, guys. We’re heading back up.”

The teachers were giving Lance dagger eyes. Alex was ninety percent sure Lance was doing this on purpose, but couldn’t imagine why. Maybe he should ask Belinda? There had to be a reason for this. Lance closed the door behind them and seemed in no way concerned about his semi-official reprimand. “Eh, sit down, kid. I’ll be fine.”

Alex sat on a couch. “So, you had questions?”

Lance plopped down next to him. “Yep.”

Lance fidgeted with tassels on a pillow. “Right, how far did your home life go to shit?”

Alex was hoping he wasn’t going to ask that. “It wasn’t that bad really. I just got left alone a lot. There were a few things like getting pushed a little too far in sports and, like, there was one time I didn’t get consulted for a major medical thing.”

Larry raised an eyebrow. “Aaand the whole being trained to murder people thing.”

Alex blinked. “That, too.”

Larry shrugged. “Moving on.”

Belinda and Micheal were being remarkably impassive. “How old were you when you first killed someone?”

Alex let out a breath.  _ Ten. Fourteen. Eighteen.  _ “Ten.”

Lance sucked in a breath. “Okay, why?”

Alex huffed. “He was trying to blow up my uncle and a town.”

Lance shrugged. “Seems legit.”

Alex resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Lance was now slowly laying a hand on his shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay.”

Alex met the man’s gaze. “No, it’s not.”

Lance looked at him. For once the man was entirely serious. “But you will be.”

Alex felt a gentle squeeze on his shoulder. “Last one. I promise.”

Alex blinked. “What do you want to do with your life?”

The question made Alex feel incredibly young. “I don’t know. I wanted to be a footballer but realized a bit ago it was out of reach. I think I want to be a surgeon, though.”

Lance grinned. “Good enough for now. I’d be more alarmed if you had a solid answer.”

Lance ruffled his hair. “Now, do you want boating, flying, or helicopter lessons?”

Alex had been taught how to drive small boats by Ian in the past life and he’d learned how to do larger ships when he was older and hunting down SCORPIA remnants. “Er, I already know how to do boats, they just assumed I didn’t.”

Lance grinned. “I’ll just get you the test at some point.”

Lance glanced at the paper. “So, flying or helicopter?”

Alex figured he could con Yassen into helicopter lessons later. “Flying, please.”

Lance grinned. “Sounds good. We’ll have an excuse to go out.”

Alex frowned. “Shouldn’t I do theory first?”

Micheal gave Lance a look. “Err. Yeah, but the class is going to be off-site and taught by me.”

Lance looked cheerful. Alex wasn’t going to bust through the paper-thin logic. It would be rude. “So, evenings will alternate flying lessons, acting, and knife lessons.”

Belinda cut in. “I think it’s Alex’s bedtime.”

It was barely nine. Alex took the hint. He could always talk with Jet or text - Oh, shit, he’d forgotten about Yassen. “Goodnight, you lot.”

Alex went to his room and grabbed his stuff to get ready for bed.

* * *

John Crawley had a tension headache. They were fairly common these days. Ian seemed miserable, not that John could blame him. Then again, he didn’t blame Mini for running off. As much as he loved the man, Jack was admittedly a better guardian. Ian huffed and began pacing in his office again. “Sorry, no changes, Ian. Interpol is refusing to remove him because he did have contact with a murdering terrorist.”

Ian made a growling noise. “He didn’t initiate it!”

Crawley sighed. “Interpol doesn’t give a fuck. It’s Interpol.”

Ian huffed. “Those motherfucking asshats.”

Crawley rubbed his face. “How’s it going in family-land?”

Ian pulled down his shirt to reveal the marks from Patrick's strangling. “Buggering fuck, Ian! I can get a restraining order!”

Ian rolled his eyes. “Mossad will make us overturn it in a week.”

John huffed. “Corrupt bastards, the lot of them.”

Ian chuckled. “So are we. So are we.”

Crawley tapped his pen against the desk. “Fair enough, but MI6 isn’t usually that blatant.”

Ian sighed. “Look, we need to get Alex back before we quibble over custody. He’s disappeared since that dead drug dealer incident.”

Crawley looked at him. “Gee, I wonder where he got the idea.”

Ian sniffed. “Good riddance to bad tra- I mean, I’m shocked and horrified and completely sure it was all Antonio, not Alex.”

Crawley threw up his hands. “Just get that shit straight, will you? Internal Affairs is probably going to come sniffing around.”

Ian groaned. “I fucking hate them.”

Crawley rolled his eyes. “The days of no government oversight are over, Ian.”

Ian threw himself into Crawley’s office “bed”. “Gah. It was so much easier back in the Cold War, you know.”

Crawley patted him on the head. “Yes, Ian. I’m the one who does all of your goddamn paperwork.”

Ian batted his eyes and Crawley cursed himself for being weak. “And I love you for it.”

Crawley now had smoldering brown eyes turned on him. Damn it, Ian, they were supposed to be working. “Ian.”

The man upped the smolder, somehow. “John.”

Crawley gave up on paperwork.

* * *

Brendan Chase was having fun. Alex Rider had made quite the splash. Watching him turn into a criminal would be gratifying. John would be horrified. Also, Nile had found out that Pierre finally gave the bank a forwarding address for his new South American residence. The CIA had been unexpected, but not necessarily out of line. Chase wondered what kind of long-term assignment they had for a French mercenary/sabotage specialist. Then again, it was the CIA in  _ South America _ . Watching Pierre, Rider, Card, and Antonio have their little duel was going to be entertaining. He was practically floating on his way to Three’s office. “So, did you hear about Alex Rider?”

Three was giving him a bemused look. “Indeed. One can’t seem to avoid it these days, given that it’s on the new and all.”

Chase flopped down in a chair in front of his desk. “He’s the snarkiest little shit I’ve ever met.”

Three didn’t react at all. “You’ll be pleased to know Yassen’s assessment was much the same.”

Chase choked. “He fucking sassed Yassen?! Oh, no. I  _ liked _ having dinner with him.”

Three paused. “Yassen claims he’s apprenticed to your new favorite operative.”

Chase raised an eyebrow. “What does Nile have to do with this?”

Three gave Chase a look that suggested he might be a tad mentally deficient. “Pierre, Brendan, Pierre. Do try to keep up.”

Chase gaped and then paused. “Huh, I can see that working. It looks a little scary.”

Three gave him the  _ shut up now _ look. “I believe he will be surrendered to Yassen and Nile for an apprenticeship around two years from now.”

Chase nearly jumped out of his chair. “Wait, what?!”

He sat back down. “Dear God, what does Pierre  _ owe _ Yassen?”

Three shut the file in front of him. “Most likely his life. Now, I do believe we have some planning to do.”

Chase frowned. “I didn’t think Yassen was the sharing type.”

Three opened another file in front of him. “He’s not, but most likely needs Nile and, more importantly, Nile’s combat team to carry out the kidnapping.”

Chase huffed. “Huh, we told him so. Looks like working alone came back to bite him in the ass.”

Three paused. “My main concern here is not the kidnapping, nor the subterfuge.”

Chase huffed. “I can’t believe Nile lied to me. Yassen is a cracked little twerp, but I thought Nile had more-”

Three cut him off with a gesture. “Our main concern here is Zeljan.”

Chase frowned. “What about him?”

Three gave him another one of the  _ you’re an idiot  _ looks. “He won’t let go of his little grudge against John Rider. Not for the most promising operative. Not to mention, the connection with Pierre. The only two men who have publicly outsmarted Zeljan. He won’t stand for it.”

Chase frowned. “So, what are we going to do? He won’t let Yassen anywhere near him.”

Three looked at Brendan. “I do believe that is Yassen and Alex’s problem.”

Brendan sighed. “So, Alex’s problem.”

Three smirked. “I’m sure they’ll rise admirably to the task; besides, he did go too far with his  _ candidates _ .”

Brendan couldn’t help but feel sorry for Alex. He had to slay a monster, after all. 

* * *

Patrick Beckett was furious.  _ Ian fucking lost Alex for a whole goddamned week before he found out. _ At least Marion had the sense to give Alex a mailing address and presumably he knew his uncle’s. Had Alex taken a leave of his senses? Was Ian batshit crazy or just being his usual possessive self? Who the hell knew anymore? Patrick banged open the door to his house. Surprisingly, everyone was there, anxiously awaiting the news. He’d only expected Marion and, perhaps, Lily. Darian and Jason tended to be more solo, especially since Jason had completed his first assignment. “What’s the news?”

Patrick blinked. “Not good.”

Marion turned on the TV to the nightly news. Patrick saw his grandson’s face. Darian blinked. “Why are they pushing this so hard? He’s barely done anything.”

Patrick frowned. Darian hadn’t asked any questions in years. “Hunter and Ian’s reputation precedes them. They’ll want to imprison and control him before he truly becomes a force to be reckoned with.”

Darian sighed. “What do you think is going to happen?”

Patrick grinned. “I think they’re already too late. While he’s at a significant disadvantage in a physical fight, he’s already got powerful allies. Antonio, for instance, and whoever wiped our records in Japan and taught him instinctive firing.”

Marion gaped. She thought she’d kept that under wraps. “I’m old, not blind, deaf, or stupid, Marion. I know he can shoot both ways. I know everything you tried to keep from Ian and I. Did you think I wouldn’t have cameras everywhere during the family reunions?!  _ I  _ am Patrick Beckett,  _ head  _ of the family. I see all that goes on in my house. I know all that goes on in my house.”

Marion blinked. Darian felt his lips twitch. “Sorry.”

Patrick glared at her. “No, you are not, but if you do it again, you will be.”

Marion sharply inhaled. The fear was written all over her face. “What are our next steps, father?”

Patrick sighed. “We will wait and see. War with the cartels and the CIA should be avoided, if possible. Though we have the troops, I would rather not start a five-way war if it is avoidable. Rest assured, we will not allow Alex to sacrifice himself for his goals, but I think he should have a chance to achieve them. For now, Mordant will keep an eye on him. I believe Lance is Ian’s spy, but far flakier in the loyalty department.”

Marion sniffed. “Why?”

Patrick sighed. “Well, for one, he hasn’t extracted Alex. For another, the man has made it very clear that he has his unfulfilled aspirations in the CIA. Alex could very well help him fulfill them. For another, Alex’s plan might be more morally palatable to him than Ian’s version of child-raising.”

Marion groaned. “I knew we should have gunned him down and taken Alex when we located them.”

Patrick sighed. “Your willingness to sacrifice the adult of one of our lines is the reason you will never be a leader.”

Marion huffed. “I knew Helen was your favorite, but Alex isn’t ready. He doesn’t know any of our rituals.”

Patrick arched a brow. “You spotted him with a hellhound, didn’t you?”

Marion sighed. “Yes, it’s far too intelligent for even the rest of the genetically modified monstrosities of MI5 to compare.”

Patrick glanced at the ritual items on the mantle. “A hellhound is a sign of favor. Did you get a hair from it?”

Marion huffed and pulled out a vial. “Of course.”

Patrick sighed. “We can use that as a representation of the link to his chosen deity.”

Marion raised an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t we need to know which one it was?”

Darian interjected. “Not with the hairs we don’t. We just use the ritual and hope that his god decides rituals are important for Alex to know.”

Marion frowned. “Better than nothing, I suppose. The worst the deity can do is deny our request, right?”

Patrick had already opened the old tome. “Yes, or decide to use the route we open for knowledge that they deem more important.”

Marion got up. “What are we waiting for?”

Patrick held up his hand. “The new moon. Hellhound means he’s aligned himself with the darker forces.”

Marion pouted. “We have to wait for three weeks?!”

Patrick silenced her with a look. Darian sighed. “Well, it’s a start.”


	64. Letters from Afar

Charles Brandon was surprised to get any messages from Maddox. He hadn’t got any in ages. Then again, he’d always had the sinking suspicion that any post he took would be temporary. The phone had appeared in his mailbox, for the few months abroad that he’d bothered with one. It had an “M” on the case.

* * *

_ -B _

_ Can you hear me? _

_ -M _

* * *

Maddox had done the math. Alex was going to need a doctor relatively soon. War was a tricky business. Charles had experience as a battle surgeon and a regular surgeon. And he was loyal to Alex.

_ -M _

_ Yes. What’s going on? _

_ -C _

* * *

Charles wasn’t quite sure what to expect with the machine. It might have to do with Alex, but there wasn’t much he could do from here. He was in the middle of rural southeast Asia. 

_ -C _

_ In the coming months, Alex will need a battled surgeon. A skilled one. Will you come? _

_ -M _

* * *

Charles inhaled sharply. Well, it sounded exciting. It would probably take a while to make his way back. Especially after kidnapping a kid who made it onto Interpol’s most wanted. Charles didn’t really much give a damn about the kid killing the leeches, but Charles would have recommended a bunch of car bombs or something.

_ -M _

_ Do you even have to ask? Hell, yes. Besides, the kid needs more responsible adults in his life. _

_ -C _

* * *

Maddox was...relieved. Was that the right word? Any other arrangements would have been calculation intensive. Besides, Charles was his intended master. The CIA had been no match for him, given the fact that all of the classrooms had security cameras.

_ -C _

_ Good. Make your way back. And be careful. You are really wanted now. _

_ -M _

* * *

Charles jumped as the decrepit printer started in the background. He slowly made his way over. It was bus tickets for two weeks from now. The bus only stopped in the village once a month. Charles figured it could have been worse. It would take him a while to get near an airport, though. Off to Alex he went.

* * *

Amanda Teller was excited. The enigmatic and, admittedly, sketchy man named Brendan Chase had helped her plot to bring Alex to Russia on the transfer program. He was so nice and charming and helpful. Plus, he actually knew who Hieronymus Bosch was. Chase was also a punctual man. Mandy sighed. She had a crush on a forty-year-old rich Australian criminal. Mandy was pretty sure she’d spotted a wedding ring during some of their encounters. Chase seemed to appear out of thin air at the university library she was currently occupying. Mandy jumped and inhaled sharply. “Easy, Amanda, we don’t want you falling into a stack and disappearing.”

_ Brendan _ was one of the few people she actually liked hearing her first name spoken by. “Mr. Chase.”

The man flashed his pearly white teeth. Seriously? Mandy was cursing her hormones. Normally, older men were just gross, but he was so  _ damn _ charming. “You should call me Brendan.”

Amanda was afraid she would do something horribly embarrassing if she did. Instead she flipped her hair and replied. “Only when you call me Mandy.”

The man chuckled. “So, which option do you like?”

Mandy sat back on the couch. “We're not poisoning the competition. It’s so gauche. Besides, the investigation would be a killer.”

Chase pouted. “Awww. Well, what are you thinking?”

Mandy resisted the urge to bat her eyes. He was married. Plus, she was only sixteen. “Hmm. You know that clause the Russian General dude stuck in about “moral suitability” or some such rot.”

Chase perked up. “Venereal disease? That could be fun.”

Mandy tried not to manically grin. It was unbecoming of a lady, according to her mother. Chase leaned in. “So, what are we going for? Permanent? Temporary? How are we going to give it to the guy?”

Chase was practically bouncing. Mandy whipped out the binder. “We already have that covered. See one of the guys, James Lewis, has already been treated for syphilis, chlamydia, and gonorrhea.”

Chase gaped. “How?”

Amanda smirked. “Well, going to cheap brothels and paying extra not to use condoms will do that to you.”

Brendan facepalmed. “Seventeen-year-old boys are idiots.”

Amanda rolled her eyes. “I know.”

Brendan stretched out like a cat. “So, what’s step two?”

Mandy grinned and tossed him a camera. “We catch him in the act.”

Brendan mentally groaned at the idea of naked teenage flesh, but figured it was worth the sacrifice. “And then?”

Mandy grinned. “I think the old prudes in Russian won’t like the pictures pasted all over the tabloids. Plus, they can access medical records if they need proof.”

Chase grinned. Encouraging criminals was just so much fun. “Okay, would you like to go to a celebration dinner now?”

Mandy put up the files and camera. “Sounds great!”

* * *

The man known to most people as General Alexei Sarov was not surprised to receive a letter from Alex Rider, but was surprised at its contents. It had started off like always. Beautiful calligraphy and perfect Russian. And then abruptly took an unexpected turn.

* * *

_ Dear General, _

_I am writing to tell you that the address on the outside of the envelope is my new one. My current guardian went a bit too far in trying to pick which path I walk, only to find that I walk my own. This brings me back to our first conversation. Did we not once both complain of the corruption in the world? Did we not both believe that MI6 and the CIA brought about quite a bit of it?_

_ I’ve decided to go my own way to try to clean house. They are sponsoring a bunch of dangerous interlinked drug cartels in South America. Recently, I’ve made my moves to try to unite everything under one head. Why? Simple. Under one leader, I can take control. I can force the cartels into legitimacy. I can help the citizens gain back the power they so rightly deserve. Quite simply, I’ve gone to war. Not a visible one, not now anyway. Right now, I’m still trying to gather more information, like all the books say.  _

_ How is it in Russia? I don’t think it looks much better on your end. The real question here is how to consolidate power? As I recall, you’re still quite popular. Maybe it’s time to look for and cut out the infection before it spreads, no? _

_ Yours in War, _

_Xander_

* * *

The General sighed as he read the letter. Alex had taken a new name and gone to war. Sarov put his face in his hands. The boy who looked so much like his son was going to war even younger. He closed his eyes and inhaled. Undercover work was risky. It also tended to induce PTSD in the unconditioned. It wasn’t as though he hadn’t managed his own after the war. Alex seemed to want to end the conflict fairly quickly. There was one thing he could do. Sarov picked up the phone. “ _ Minister? We are getting Alex Rider off Interpol’s Most Wanted _ .”

The man sputtered. “ _ Alright, Alexei. Tell me you have a plan. _ ”

* * *

Tom Harris was surprised to get a letter from Alex. If anything, he expected Ian to be the recipient of such a thing. It was a short letter assuring Tom that he was fine. Tom got the underlying message just fine.  _ I care about you. I haven’t forgotten you _ .  _ I love you _ .  _ Take care of Jack. _ Tom let out a long breath. Should he tell Ian? It would give him an address to work with. Then again, Alex really did want to do this and Tom didn’t want to be the guy who hindered his best friend because of a little danger. Maybe he should give Ian the letter, but be the dumbass who “accidentally” ditched the envelope (aka the thing with the return address). Tom took a deep breath and then memorized the address. He wasn’t nearly as good as Alex, but when it mattered, he would remember. Tom closed his eyes and pulled out a lighter. With a flick of his thumb, he set the envelope on fire. And orange-red flame consumed the envelope. Tom let the last little bit fall as it burned completely to ash.  _ For Alex _ . Jack chose that moment to throw open his door. “I smell smoke.”

Tom flushed. “I...err...got upset and set a piece of paper on fire.”

Jack sighed. “You poor thing. Alex used to do the same-”

Her eyes snapped to his face. “Alex?”

Tom picked up the letter. “Alex.”

Jack gave him a soft, pleading look. Tom handed her the letter. She read through it. “Not much in there, is it?”

Tom sighed. There was a stab of guilt. He had covered for Alex. “No, but it has the part I care about.”

Jack gave him a rueful grin. “And no ‘I’m fine’, huh?”

Tom laughed. It was Alex’s trademark phrase for when you should really cart him off to the hospital. “Nope, not at all.”

Jack grinned. “I’m tie-dying all of his undershirts.”

Tom laughed. “Want help?”

* * *

Patrick got his letter from Marion’s trembling hands. “It’s from Alex.”

Patrick blinked. He would have expected it to be Ian who got the letter. Nevertheless, it seemed providence had shone down upon him. He tore open the letter with ease. His casual movements belying his anxiety as he silently prayed this wasn’t Alex declaring he never wanted to see any of them again. Patrick unfolded the page. It was a letter written in elaborate calligraphy that detailed exactly why Alex had run off. The writing instantly reminded him of Helen. The odd slant on the y’s and t’s. Marion was hovering. “Well?”

Patrick blinked. “He’s decided to go on a personal crusade, it seems.”

Marion huffed. “You’d think he would take me along. I’ve killed people for him!”

Patrick gave her a look. “That was his prerogative. Besides, perhaps he needs a more delicate touch on this one.”

Marion glared at him. “I have a delicate touch!”

Patrick smirked. “Yes, with the scalpel during torture.”

Marion snarled. “Are you going to share or not?”

Patrick’s eye twitched in her direction. “I think I will be sticking the original in the safe. All of you will be permitted to view a copy.”

Darian looked bored. “And why would that be?”

Patrick blinked before setting the paper inside a scanner. “It’s the only letter I’ve ever received from my grandson.”

Lily and Jason could be heard sighing. The young redhead was pacing in the living room. “Is he doomed or not?”

Marion tossed her hair. “I think not, have a little faith in your cousin, Lily dear.”

Jason rolled his eyes at his adoptive mother. “She’s got a point, Mom. Alex is twelve, last time I checked. I really don’t think he should be playing games with CIA drug cartels.”

Marion huffed. “He’ll be fine, darling. I know things about Alex that would make your hair curl.”

Darian and Patrick both looked at her sharply. Patrick’s eyes flashed. “Children, kindly go to your rooms. It seems that your mother and I need to have a little chat.”

Marion pouted. “Explain. Now.”

Marion grinned at the memory. Black Ops with Alex was fun. “Well, you remember when Alex rescued me from the people in Japan?”

Patrick’s unamused glance told her to hurry up. “As it turns out, Alex had an ulterior motive. You see, he discovered a plot to take over countries and, eventually, the world by replacing the sons of prominent people with clones at an exclusive boarding academy.”

Patrick glared. “That was you two?! I got blamed for that and I wasn’t even in the country!” Marion waited. “Continue.”

Marion rolled her eyes. “Alex and I took care of it. He shot some guards and got us supplies and an escape route. I neutralized the clones.”

Patrick’s eyes seemed to bore into her. “And you didn’t mention this because?”

Marion shrugged. “Alex seemed to want it kept quiet.”

Patrick's smile was more irked than pleased. “Would anyone else like to confess to going behind my back?”

Darian considered mentioning what he’d told Alex, but decided against it. His old man had a foul temper. Plus, he felt like Alex deserved an escape route that nobody else knew about. Patrick began to grill Marion in earnest. He sat back and watched, wondering if Alex would, indeed, pull off what he wanted.

* * *

Alex was not awake, not truly. Grim was sitting on a park bench in his little mind-scape garden. “What now, Grim-o?”

Grim sent a half-hearted fireball at him. Alex plopped down next to the embodiment of death. “Brat. I’m trying to think.”

Alex frowned. “About what?”

Grim turned a black eye on him. “Your relatives did a little ritual.”

Alex groaned. “Yes, yes. You hate the family cult. However, I’m considering their request to grant you knowledge.”

Alex perked up. “What kind of knowledge?”

Grim smirked. “All the cult stuff Marion wanted you to learn and Ian wanted to burn all knowledge of.”

Alex immediately slumped again. “Griiiiim.”

Grim glared. “Just for that, Shortstack, I’m more inclined to blast you with it either way.”

Alex folded his arms over his chest. “I won’t speak to you for weeks.”

Grim shrugged. “I’ll live.”

Alex narrowed his eyes. “Look, kid, the knowledge is important. Besides, I’m willing to offer you the fun version.”

Alex arched a brow. “The fun version.”

Grim grinned. “I’ll give you the memories of all of your relatives and ancestors discovering the stuff.”

Alex gave him a look. “Wouldn’t I still need a knowledge base.”

Grim waved his hand. “You’d get it, but don’t you want to see memories from your dearly departed mother and father?”

Alex felt as though he had been punched as he gaped at the primordial. Alex wanted to cry. Grim was offering him the one thing he’d always wanted. “That’s not fair.”

Grim’s eyes flickered and his face softened. “Life isn’t fair.”

Alex felt raw, like everything in his chest had been torn. “Why are you doing this?”

Grim sighed. “Bitch, I’m not evil. Besides, I feel like you really should be able to see your parents practicing their religion.”

Alex sighed. “Grim, you know I’m not going to say no to that. Hell, I once watched videos of my dad killing people because it was the only records I could find. There was nothing of my mother. I never even saw a picture until I went through Ian’s drawers.”

Grim grinned. “Good. Besides, it won’t be so bad. You’ll probably like some of them.”

Alex glared. “In other words, the other half of them have massive amounts of gore.”

Grim shrugged. “Yup. Your ancestor buddy Ambrosius was kind of a glory hound.”

Alex looked puzzled. “What the fuck kind of name is Ambrosius?”

Grim grinned. “A very old Roman one. Now shut up and prepare for a memory blast.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Is there actually a way to prepare?”

Grim snorted. “Nope.”

And promptly shoved a black marble-sized orb at him. “Swallow.”

Alex stared. “Oh, don’t give me that look. It’s a dream, you idiot, you can’t choke.”

* * *

The great master had given him a hoo-man. A tiny one. But the great master had promised him the hoo-man would grow. Fenrir huffed. The hoo-man was slow to it. Its scent was familiar, however. The great master assured him that the hoo-man would eventually smell more like him. The scent was familiar and it reminded him of home, with the great master. It was the one that he followed whenever the scrawny hoo-man wandered off, as pups would do. He tilted his head in the air and inhaled. The hoo-man had gone the direction of the rising light. The howl colored the air to warn any big ones away. The hoo-man was his. And he was coming. Pack. The scent was easy to trace. The hoo-man was barely gone for two moons this time. Better to find pups before trouble found them.

* * *

There was a scratching at his window. Alex slowly got up. He opened the window to yellow, lupine eyes. “What the hell? Fenrir? How did you find me?”

The wolf huffed indignantly. Alex grumbled. “Fine, fine. Get in here.”

The wolf gave him a look. Alex opened the window all the way. The wolf whined, but managed to just barely squeeze through. It looked pretty hilarious, but Alex stifled his giggles. The adults were asleep. Fenrir eyed his bed. Alex shut the window and got back under the covers, deciding to wonder about how Fenrir followed him later. “Get in, fluff.”

Fenrir got under the covers. Alex promptly went back to sleep.

* * *

Alex woke to a scream. A very unmanly scream. Lance was standing in his doorway staring in horror. “Relax, Lance. It’s my husky mix.”

Lance clutched at his chest and panted. “Sweet Jesus, give a guy a warning next time.” 

Michael and Belinda barged in. “It’s my dog.”

Belinda looked thoroughly amused. Michael let out an audible sigh of relief. Lance sighed. “Right, we’ll need to bring this to Card for approval.”

Alex glared. “I’m not giving up my dog.”

He grabbed his clothes and began changing. “Also, he only eats raw meat.”

Lance glanced between Fenrir and him. “Are you sure it’s a dog?”

Alex yanked his shirt over his head and pulled his backpack towards him. “Yes.”

Belinda coughed. “Well, I’ll take the dog to Card. You two get ready for the day. After all, it’s not a good look if the dog affects Alex’s academics.”

That seemed to snap everyone back to normal. “Right. Everyone at breakfast in ten minutes.”

The adults seemed to get ready pretty fast. Belinda sighed. “Does he have a leash?”

Alex sheepishly rubbed his head. “I left all the stuff and him with a friend.”

Belinda sighed loudly. It was Michael who spoke next. “Is there really a point in a leash with that thing, though?”

Belinda snorted. “Good point.”

Michael, Xander and Larry went to breakfast while Belinda went to Card’s office. On Mondays, Card ate in his own office. Alex went to breakfast feeling a bit impatient. He was used to confronting his problems head-on or as they came. Lance’s eye twitched in his direction. “Quit fidgeting.” This got him several glares from the other teachers. Ms. Allen was, surprisingly, one of them. Alex would have expected her to be on the “no fidgeting” team. Alex tried to stop and managed to regulate it to a single finger tapping on the table. Virtually unnoticeable. The older students seemed to be eyeing him nervously. Not that Alex could blame them. He’d really only been here a week. It was possible that he was still insane. Lance looked vaguely amused. “Looks like it’s mentorship hour.”

Alex wasn’t sure how he got through the rest of the day wondering about Fenrir, but he did. After the last class, he was called the Card’s office.

* * *

Card had his dog. “Fenrir!”

The dog in question immediately sat at his side. Card sighed. “I suppose you can keep the dog. I do have a few questions, though.”

Alex blinked. “Uh, sure.”

Fenrir whined and wove in between Alex’s legs, nearly upending the chair. Alex pet Fenrir. “How did your dog follow you?”

Alex genuinely had no idea. “He must have followed my scent.”

Card’s face was unimpressed. “You were brought here in a goddamned helicopter.”

Alex shrugged. “Look, dude, I was as surprised as you are.”

Card sighed again. “I suppose your fluffy pet will follow you everywhere.”

Alex blinked. “I mean, probably.”

Card rubbed his eyes. “The dog only eats raw meat?”

Alex looked a little sheepish. “Errr. Yeah.”

Card flipped through some files. “Well, hunting class can donate to the cause. It’s not like we eat entrails anyway.”

That sounded hugely wasteful to Alex, but he didn’t say anything. Fenrir fluffed up at the sound of entrails. “Has he ever attacked anybody?”

Alex decided to lie through his teeth. “Uh, no. Look, I know he’s enormous, but he’s a real sweetheart who loves people.”

Card didn’t look even slightly convinced, but let it go. “If you say so.”

Alex grinned. Card pulled out a leash and collar. “You’re responsible for walking him every-”

Fenrir yanked the collar and leash off the man’s desk and plopped them into Alex’s lap. Card started laughing. “Smart dog.”

Alex gave the man the evil eye. “Now you’ve done it. He wants a walk.”

Fenrir began whining and pulling on Alex’s chair. Alex felt his chair being yanked out from under him and jumped clear, catching the leash and collar mid-fall. Card was now laughing uproariously. “Go walk your dog. Dismissed.”

Alex began sticking the collar on Fenrir. “Alright. C’mon, Fluff.”

* * *

Alex was glad to have his pet with him, even if it met missing out on hours of sleep. Fenrir seemed to tolerate the other children, but none of the adults. It had been two weeks in and he was already settled in. It was an odd balance that the adults seemed to be coming to. Lance was tolerated because he was just that good. Belinda was the real reason the teachers didn’t riot. Michael seemed to hover on the edge of either contempt or pity by the adults, but nobody was going to touch the Lance/Michael dynamic with a ten-foot pole. Alex was glad. Michael seemed a little leery of speaking of their past relationship. It felt so long ago. The blue eyes seemed to follow him everywhere he went. Alex wondered if the man would ever approach him to talk about it. Michael’s eyes locked onto him. “Xander.”

Alex blinked. That name was surprisingly easy to get used to. “What’s up?” Michael pulled him into the nearest empty classroom. “Okay, what the hell?”

Michael sighed. “This is harder than I thought.”

Xander shrugged. “Look, bro, we don’t really need to talk about it if you don’t want to. Just know that I refused to speak to  _ him  _ for almost nine months after that stunt.”

Michael breathed out. “Meet me tonight, alone. Lance has a thing for both of us.” Alex rubbed his eyes. Lance was a huge bucket of worms in and of itself. Alex knew the man “occasionally” sold his services to the highest bidder. And by “occasionally”, Alex meant almost as often as Yassen. Alex rubbed his eyes and felt the worry beginning to build. What now? Alex had a hard time believing that anything fucking Larry was contracted for was going to be a nice, peaceful chat. Michael grinned. “Relax.” Xander gave the man a very skeptical look. Michael winked at him. “Sneaking out is all part of the fun.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “If I get caught, I will kill you in your sleep.”

Michael laughed his ass off. “That’s the spirit, Al- I mean, Xander.”

Xander rolled his eyes. “I need to go to class now.”

A flash of Michael’s teeth let him know they were good, for now. Alex was escorted to his last class. The one Card taught. “Xander, so nice of those two to let you join us.”

Michael smirked at the man. “Well, you know, mentor’s prerogative.”

Card rolled his eyes. Michael left. “I swear to God, those two are sometimes not at all worth the trouble.”

Xander sat down and opened his notebook as Card resumed the lecture.

* * *

Sneaking out of the compound was almost child’s play. Alex met Lance and Michael outside the walls. “So, what’s up?”

Lance grinned. “I felt like it was time for some action.”

Alex mentally groaned. “You’ll blow us all if we're not careful.”

Lance grinned. “Don’t worry, we’ll be fine. Besides, I excused you from classes tomorrow.”

Alex huffed. “No wonder my teachers were so grumpy.”

Lance grinned. “Eh, fuck ‘em. Actually, don’t, though. Let’s get started.”

Alex was suddenly curious about what they were supposed to be doing in the dead of night. “Right.”

As if on cue, a black craft appeared. “What the hell?”

Lance grinned and ruffled his hair. “Cool, huh. Special Operations gets the toys, Black Operations gets the real gear.”

Alex eyed the thing skeptically. “Can it hold our weight, though?”

Lance scoffed. “I wouldn’t take you on anything that hadn’t been thoroughly tested by some disposable PhDs. C’mon.”

Alex eyed the plating, but boarded said craft. He was not reassured by the eight-point seatbelts. “Uh.”

Michael strapped him in. “The ride will be a little rough.”

Alex felt his eyes widen. “We’re going to be landing in a very cliffy area. Oh, I almost forgot this.”

Alex felt a needle stab into him. “What is that?”

Michael’s smile turned wry. “Anti-vomiting injection. They’re normally used for astronauts.”

Alex huffed. “I feel so fucking reassured.”

Michael laughed and began strapping in next to him. “Try to sleep.”

Alex scoffed. “In the Earth version of the vomit comet? Fat chance.”

Of course, both Lance and Michael dropped off to sleep immediately. Alex was kept awake by the buzzing, thrumming of the plane. It was like riding a propeller plane, except worse. It felt like the aircraft was trying to shake itself apart. How were those two  _ sleeping _ ? Alex glanced at Michael and Lance. Fuck it, he was asking them.

* * *

The craft, whatever the fuck it was, landed sometime later. Lance and Michael were, of course, annoyingly well-rested and alert. “Doing alright?”

Alex glared. “Fuck both of you. How did you even sleep?”

The men exchanged amused glances. Michael answered him. “After sleeping through a few bombings, this is pretty quiet.”

Alex grumbled as Michael unbuckled him. Michael ruffled his hair and then let him drop to the ground. Alex groaned. Lance glanced at him. “You gonna barf or nah? Michael was supposed to give you an antiemetic.”

Michael huffed. “I gave him the injection.”

Alex sighed. “I’ll be fine.”

They departed the craft. It took off silently. “They’ll follow us from afar.”

Alex brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Wouldn’t radar pick them up?”

Lance shook his head. “Nah. It flies below radar.”

Well, this was going to give him paranoia like never before. Thank you, Lance, he loved being an insomniac. “What are we doing?”

Lance glared. “You are ‘observing’. Here’s a gun, just in case.”

Alex took the gun and cursed Alan Blunt for being worse than a literal alcoholic sociopath. Michael just stared at Lance like he’d grown a second head. “Are you seriously-”

Lance cut him off. “Shut the fuck up. You know nothing about what it’s like to have killed by the age of twelve. Also, we both know he can use it. Look at him, he feels safer now.”

Michael looked at Alex and gave an unhappy little sigh. “I don’t like it, but it's fine.”

Alex mentally groaned. It was Troy and Turner all over again. Larry opened the box further. “Also take this.”

Alex was handed a flamethrower. “Lance, a back-up flamethrower?”

The man shrugged. “You never know.”

Michael gave Lance a look that suggested he would dearly like to punch the man in the face. Lance handed him weapons. Michael’s jaw twitched. “Thanks.”

Lance clapped him on the shoulder. “Good man.”

Michael’s eye twitched. Alex was suddenly nervous. Alex slung the thing over his shoulder. Without his mutant strength and workouts, it would have been heavy. Michael and Lance both looked at him oddly. Alex shrugged. “Should we get going now?”

Lance stepped forward. “Follow me. And keep your voices down from here on out, unless you’re dying.”

They stepped forward into the darkness. Alex was very aware that he was blindly following two people he barely knew in a dark jungle in the middle of the night. Oh, well. MI6 had put him in sketchier situations. Cough, Afghanistan, cough. Alex blinked. He was adjusting to the lack of light, he supposed. The jungle was becoming much more visible. Though, this was better than the low-light vision he usually had in uninhabited areas. Alex wondered about that, but decided that it was nothing to worry about, especially since he had nobody to immediately ask or test him. Perhaps he should ask his relatives. Alex swiftly decided against it. He was still furious with all of them, barring his cousins. Lance whacked him upside the head. “Head in the game, kid.”

Alex stared at the sheer cliff about fifty feet in front of him. “We’re climbing that?”

Lance grinned. “Yep. We’ll ditch the gear, though. Ship’ll pick us up.”

Alex blinked. “What about fingerprints?”

Lance huffed. “Special coating. Let’s go.”

* * *

After what felt like a decade of climbing, they were finally at the bottom. Alex glared at Lance and hissed. “And what was the bloody point of this?”

Lance huffed. “Keep your shirt on, shorty. Take a good look across from us.”

Alex blinked. “It’s a fucking cave.”

Lance whacked him again. “It’s what’s in the cave, dumbass.”

Alex groaned. “It better not be fucking underwater with fucking sharks.”

Michael let out a huff that sounded suspiciously like a laugh. “That was oddly specific.”

Alex grunted. “Don’t fucking ask.”

Lance blinked. “Okay then. You’ll be happy to hear that the cave is above water and hopefully shark free. Shark corpses stink.”

Alex automatically pulled out a gun. “The cave is supposed to be deserted.”

Xander felt his eye twitch. “Then, the cave’s guards can desert the business end of my gun.”

Lance grinned. “That’s the spirit. You’ll stay here.”

Alex glared. He’d been to this shitshow before. “The hell I will.”

Michael sighed. “Kid, we’ll be back in twenty minutes. Use the gun if anyone shows up.”

Lance and Michael exchanged a glance. “We’ll talk about this when we get back.”

Alex grit his teeth. If these two died on him, he was going to ask Grim about resurrections just to murder them all over again. He pointed the gun in the direction of the cave, took a deep breath and waited. It felt like forever. Alex really did not want to get stuck in a jungle with no help whatsoever. The fact that he had come here in a craft, in the dark, and unfamiliar with the territory meant that he would be unlikely to find a way back. The minutes ticked by and Alex felt extremely twitchy. Suddenly, five shots rang out. Xander wondered whether to run into the cave, but decided to follow instructions, for once in his life. Lance and Michael came running out a few seconds later being chased by guards with batons. Alex didn’t hesitate before firing into the lot of them. “Lance, you moron.”

It was Michael. Lance all but pranced over to the dead bodies. “Head shots, Michael. Xany got head shots in the dark.”

Michael elbowed Lance. “Later. We don’t know if more of them are coming.”

The two men looked at Alex. Lance spoke up. “Let’s go kid. We gotta run.”

Alex ran after them through the jungle. He wondered what the hell they were stealing and who the hell they were stealing from. They ran to a different, but still very sheer cliff side. Alex felt his sides beginning to ache. The black craft came for them. Alex felt his mouth drop open as it landed in a straight downward, ninety-degree, angle, mere feet from the very sheer cliff. Lance grinned. “I hear that feature was tricky as hell.”

Alex sighed and then followed Lance and Michael back onto the damn thing. It was a long ride home.

* * *

The second they slipped back into their apartment, Alex tried to sneak back to his room. “Oh, no, ya don’t. You need to talk.”

Alex mentally cursed Lance into a very painful death in the back of his mind as his forearm was seized. “So do you, Lance.”

Lance chuckled. “Ah, you’re right, kid. But since you’re younger, you get to talk first.”

Alex huffed. “Oh, come on.”

Lance actually laughed at him. Xander moodily flung himself on the couch. “First of all, headshots in the dark?”

Alex grumbled. “You have your skills, I have mine.”

Lance shrugged. “Fair enough.”

Michael grunted something that sounded like motherfucker. Alex politely ignored that. Belinda chose that exact moment to glide out of her bedroom. “You all reek of the swamp and gunfire.”

Lance grinned. “Feeling concerned about me, Sugar?”

Belinda backhanded him. “Dream on, you pervert.”

The blonde sank onto one of the couches. Lance grinned. “Oh, I will.”

Lance plopped down next to Alex. “What’s your deal with caves?”

Xander grit his teeth. “Bad experiences.”

Lance gave him a look. “I assume there was an underwater cave with sharks.”

Alex put his face in his hands. He hadn’t even liked Turner or Troy that much, why was he still fucking sad. “Some people I knew decided to go cave-diving.”

Lance interjected. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”

Michael elbowed the man. Alex sighed. “They left me outside, said they’d be back, and then got eaten by a shark.”

Belinda sighed. Lance burst out, “Ew!” Lance was elbowed again. He coughed. “I could see why that might be problematic.”

Belinda interrupted. “Xander, go to bed.”

Lance huffed. “But- But-”

Belinda suddenly resembled a saber-toothed tiger. “Bite my ass, Lance.”

Alex decided that going to bed was the wise move here. Lance and Belinda could be heard through the door. “You just undermined my authority-”

Belinda cut him off. “Listen here, you insensitive asshole-”

Michael cut them off. “Maybe keep it down? Xander is supposedly sleeping.”

The sound cut off after that. Alex decided that he was going to sleep now.

* * *

The next morning saw Alex waking up on his own with Fenrir curled up next to him. “Hello, dog.”

Fenrir fluffed up. Alex pet his fur back down. The door opened to a slightly hungover-looking Michael. “Can we talk?”

The door shut. Alex rubbed his eyes. “Sure.”

Michael sat on his bed. “Don’t let Lance get to you.”

Alex groaned. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Michael looked at him. “Last night, that was typically Lance.”

Alex ran his hands through Fenrir’s fur. “What do you mean?”

Michael ran his hands through his hair. “He set you up. You didn’t hear it from me, but he set you up.”

Alex put his face in Fenrir’s fur. He wondered why he even felt betrayed anymore. “Why?”

Michael shrugged. “I don’t know. He does the same shit with me. I don’t even know what’s a real fucking emergency anymore.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Why are you telling me this? It’s not like I can request a new mentor.”

Michael ran his hands through his hair. “I don’t know. We used to be friends. Just...try not to end up like him. He enjoys it, you know, killing, murder, explosions, torture. He enjoys it.”

Alex rubbed Fenrir’s fur. “And this is the man Card chose to mentor me? Wonderful.”

Michael sighed. “It’s not all bad.”

Alex just looked at the man. “What the fuck even was yesterday, anyway?”

Michael grinned. “Ah, that. We were stealing some intel from a rival agency.”

Xander pet the dog. Fenrir was turning out to be great for his stress levels. “Which one?”

Michael shrugged. “I’ll let Lance show you the rest. I’m supposed to tell you to come down for brunch now.”

Alex rose from the bed. Fenrir woofed. “I’ll feed you later, fluff.”

Fenrir whined pathetically. “Fine, fine, you’ll get some bacon.”

Alex heard Michael chuckle as he left the room. Alex flipped the man off and then pulled on some clothes. Belinda was already at the table when he arrived. “Card wishes to have you examined by a doctor.”

Alex huffed. “What? I’m fine.”

Belinda snorted. “I have a medical doctorate as well as one in psychology. I can substitute if you prefer.”

Alex felt a little sheepish. “Er, thanks. I would.”

Belinda nodded. Lance broke in. “Wait. You’re a woman, though.”

Belinda looked at Lance. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying?”

Lance huffed. “Look, I think Mikey over there can tell you all about predatory women and young boys.”

Belinda walked up to Lance and slapped him. “I would  _ never _ .”

Lance huffed. “Bitch, I met you two weeks ago. How the fuck would I know?”

Michael interceded. “Why don’t we ask Xander?”

Belinda tossed her hair. Alex jumped in. “I’m good with it.”

Lance grunted. “Fine, fine.”

With that little drama, no one noticed for another five minutes that Fenrir had downed the entire plate of bacon. 

* * *

“You dog ate all the bacon!”

Alex shrugged. “Look, he’s hungry.”

Lance pinched his nose. “You and I are hunting for him later.”

Michael opened his mouth, but was silenced by a glare from Lance. “In the meantime, I’m sorry for being a bit of a dick yesterday. I was really impressed, though.”

Alex blinked. “It's good. I know you aren’t entirely capable of empathy.”

Lance sighed. “But I am capable of sympathy and compassion and I should have shown some.”

Lance ruffled his hair. “C’mon, finish up. I want to go tromping through the jungle some more.”

Alex finished his last bite of eggs. “Lance, you’re clinically insane.”

Twinkling blue eyes met his brown. “Ah, but you love me anyway.”

Lance pulled out a letter. “So, this is what we were grabbing last night. It looks like ‘6 wants to start bumming around our little center of operations. Card says it’s a no go for obvious reasons - namely this little school - so we had to give ‘em a little bit of a massive failure.”

Alex sighed. On one hand, it simplified things considerably if there were only two sides in the espionage war. On the other hand, he’d just gunned down MI6 agents. “Won’t they say something?”

Lance grinned. “Naw. Two reasons. One, they’d have to admit to being here. Two, they have no idea if it’s us, Antonio, or a rival cartel at this point. Also, they just changed leadership and ol’ Jonesy won’t want to look bad.”

Alex let out a sigh. “So, what about the agents?”

Lance shrugged. “Their bodies get shipped back and their families get lied to, kid. It’s a brutal little world, ain’t it?”

Alex was repulsed by that entire description. “That’s awful.”

Lance cuffed him. “It is what it is, kid.”

Alex gave the man a look that suggested he wanted to punch him. “I don’t like it.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “Save the angst for Allen, hmm?”

Alex got up. “Fine.”

Lance leaned into the doorway. “You know. At the end of this, we’re gonna need a leader.”

Alex shrugged. “What’s your point?”

Lance leaned in closer. “There’s only one king and you’re about to destabilize him. Just...think about it.”

Alex glared as he began attaching his body armor. “What about you?”

Lance laughed. “Nobody likes me, kid.”

Alex paused. “I like you. Sometimes.”

Lance snorted loudly. “There’s my point, kid. Like I said, think about it.”

Alex finished attaching his body armor. “What now?”

Lance huffed. “Now, we hopefully catch something for your dog.”

* * *

The next morning was slightly awkward. It was like his first day all over again. All the kids were on edge around him. Kenneth and Abigail across from him. The breakfast room was dead silent. Alex felt his lips twitch. “So, who died?”

Kenneth snorted loudly. “Looks like you’re fine.”

Abigail elbowed Kenneth. “Ken.”

Kenneth replied. “Abby. You said it yourself you hated when we got treated like lepers after we got back from things.”

Abigail tossed her hair. “Fair point.”

Eric and Madison seemed to be creeping over to him. Alex was a little surprised, but it was a pleasant sort of surprise. The last time people near his age found out that he had killed at a very young age, it had ended with him having no friends. To his surprise, they dropped in the seats next to him and snuggled right up. Alex realized that they were really young at that point. He might be physically twelve, but they were physically and mentally their ages. Alex awkwardly put an arm around both of them. “It’ll be okay you two.”

Madison burrowed deep into his side. The bell rang. The two small children were refusing to move. “Uh, guys, we have class.”

Madison pouted. “I don’t wanna.”

Eric was giving him an identical look. “I guess you’ll both have to come to mine then.”

Alex put one of them over each shoulder and began to slowly walk to class with the two of them clinging to him. Sometimes his mutant strength had benefits. Ms. Davis looked exceedingly amused at Alex’s not-so-dilemma. He could throw the other two off of him, but didn’t particularly want to. Xander was careful to sink into his chair in a way that would not jar either of them. “You’ve got some clingers.”

It was Lance and he looked entirely too amused.


	65. Consequences and Confidence

Alex was cornered by Ms. Davis of all people. “Can I help you?”

The woman wrung her hands nervously. “Well, er, Lance briefed us on the events yesterday and I was wondering if you needed someone to talk to.”

Alex barely kept from reacting as the guilt stabbed him in the chest. Davis was being so damn nice and he was planning to betray her. Maybe. Maybe he could recruit her. She didn’t seem very happy with the current state of her job. “I’m fine. I’ve got Belinda.”

Ms. Davis frowned. “Really? Forgive me, but Belinda seems...emotionally cold.”

Alex felt his lips twitching. He was touched, he was. “She’s warmer once you get to know her.”

Ms. Davis frowned. “Really, you’re feeling no distress at all?”

Alex blinked. “I feel a little guilty, sure, but I’m not seeing why this is any of your business.”

Ms. Davis frowned. “I’m normally in charge of the younger group. I’m just concerned...Lance isn’t exactly what I’d called a sympathetic parental figure.”

Alex sighed. “He’s still better than my last one.”

Ms. Davis’ tone turned dry. “That isn’t a high bar if the rumors are true.”

Alex huffed. He’d die before he said that aloud. “What about you?”

Ms. Davis blinked. “What about me?”

Alex took her hand. “Are you happy, Ms. Davis?”

The woman looked shocked. “It’s been many- It’s not- It’s complicated, Xander.”

Alex blinked. “That’s not an answer. Are. You. Happy.”

Ms. Davis sighed. “That’s a private answer.”

Alex quirked an eyebrow. “And?”

Ms. Davis sighed. “Come to my office hours.”

Xander felt puzzled. “Okay, They’re at eleven?”

Ms. Davis waved her hand to dismiss him. Alex felt a sense of foreboding but went to lunch. About five minutes later, Ms. Davis showed up with red eyes and a red nose. Alex pretended not to notice. Eric and Madison were back to clinging like a pair of leeches. He had a sinking suspicion Davis might have dropped them a few choice hints. It wasn’t like he minded the snuggles, but after the two workout sessions, those two were rather heavy. Lance cut in. “Alright, you two, off.”

Madison and Eric got off almost instantly. Alex saw their wide, terrified eyes and gave them both a reassuring pat. Alex went off to class, as usual. Now he just had to wait for the end of the day. Davis was going to be interesting. 

* * *

Alex showed up at office hours at eleven o’clock at night. Ms. Davis seemed a little nervous. “Hello, Xander.”

Alex was surprised at the underlying warmth of the tone. “Ms. Davis. So, you were saying earlier.”

The woman sat down next to him. “It’s a very personal question, Xander.”

The woman opened a cupboard. “Why don’t we have some tea?”

Alex’s hand wandered instantly to the British tea. “Uh, sure. What kind?”

Ms. Davis’s tone was still warm. “Whichever one you like.”

Alex shrugged and grabbed the British tea. Call him sentimental. Besides, he wasn’t as bad as Yu. It wasn’t British cheese, after all. Ms. Davis started the kettle. “Well, to start with, this job honestly wasn’t what I was expecting.”

Alex felt his mouth twist wryly. “Things are rarely what we expect.”

Ms. Davis paused. “Originally, I thought we would be raising children, not weapons, you know.”

Alex watched her put a hand on her mouth. “I kind of figured. There’s something else that’s bothering you, isn’t there?”

Ms. Davis’s voice was very small. “A few things. For one, while we do set up our retiring members for life, the last year fatality rate is...unusually high. Also, well, I’m uncomfortable with your age and the fact that you’re already on missions.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

Ms. Davis coughed awkwardly. “We usually save the more savage classes and actual missions for the older half of our students, as you probably noticed.”

Alex shrugged. “You do know I’ve killed people before now, right?”

Ms. Davis sipped her tea and pursed her lips. “I’m aware.”

Alex blinked. “I’ve killed a lot of people, Davis. I’m probably going to keep killing people.”

Ms. Davis looked at him. “Xander, if I truly cared about your body count, I would have asked. Be as that may, you are still twelve and I still think we should have waited at least a few more months. You desperately lack stability.”

Alex took a sip of tea and felt a stab of homesickness. He decided to interrupt the responsible adult tirade. “So, do you want to find out if your suspicions have merit?”

Ms. Davis froze. “And, so, what if they did?”

Alex looked at her and leaned in close enough to whisper inaudibly. “If you’re right, you can join me. Bring the other teachers to our side that you think will come.”

Ms. Davis started but replied in an equally low tone. “You’re not a terrorist and you’re not with us. Whose side are you on?”

Alex finished his tea and spoke aloud. “The third one, Ms. Davis. My own.”

With that, he exited the room and left her to think.

* * *

Ms. Davis felt herself draw a few shuddering breaths. Once upon a time she had been an analyst. Then she had taken this job. It was considered extremely prestigious at the time. There had been round after round after round of assessments. Then, there had been little niggling things. Like how they seemed to last until the final year of their program and then the death rate spiked. The fact that she never heard from any former students nor found mention of them in the places she’d expect. Also, the identities they supposedly created for alumni were either flawless or nonexistent. She was suspicious but had never really checked very closely. The keycard that gave her access to records was in her hand. Ms. Davis, not that that was her real name, slid the card in. Fortunately, the records were paper, so nobody could see what she was reading. Card would likely assume she was scouring Alex’s file for information out of maternal concern. She did it often enough. The file room had no cameras for several reasons. Mostly because Card didn’t want bits of the files accidentally recorded Also, her boss was paranoid about hackers. It had gotten worse in the past two years, with the creation of the Pierre identities. The camera issues MI6 and Japan had experienced had not exactly helped. Ms. Davis grabbed about ten files on students. Half who had died in their last year and half who had supposedly been sent on their merry way. On her way out, she ran into Allen, not that it was the woman’s real name either. “Reminiscing?”

Davis flushed. “Maybe.”

Allen was kind of a bitchy cunt, unless you were highly skilled at combat. Davis was not highly skilled in combat. “How did your meeting with Xander go?”

She sighed. “He seems only slightly unsettled, but fine otherwise. It’s strange.”

Allen raised an eyebrow. “To you, perhaps.”

Davis frowned. “He seems like a sweet, caring boy to me.”

Allen snorted loudly. “That means nothing. Even sociopaths are utterly charming when they want to be.”

Davis flushed. “Xander is sincere.”

Allen arched a brow. “Is he, now?”

Ms. Davis tossed her hair. “He’s not a complete sociopath.”

Allen shrugged. “It is always a spectrum.”

Ms. Davis sighed. “Well, if you want to complain, you can help me carry these files to my room.”

Allen took the files. “So, what did you two talk about?”

Ms. Davis reflected, rather wryly, that this  _ was _ like a bitchy little expensive private school sometimes.

* * *

Alex sighed as he got back to his room. Lance scrutinized him. “Davis? Really, Xany? She’s soft.”

Alex arched a brow. “Exactly. She gets attached to people. Davis is probably still pretty upset over all those dead child operatives she had plenty of time to get attached to.”

Lance looked thoughtful. “I didn’t think of that.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “That’s because you have negative empathy.”

Lance gaped and then started laughing. “There’s the kid I know. I was starting to get worried about you. I mean, no snark?”

Alex shrugged. “Sometimes I’m too depressed for that shit.”

Larry shrugged. “Fair enough. Do you want a beer or something?”

Alex snorted. “Dude, I’m twelve.”

Lance grinned. “It never stopped me.”

Alex retorted. “Yeah, and look what it did to your brain development.”

A pillow sailed past his head. Alex picked up a pillow from the couch. It hit Lance with a faint thump. The man grinned. A pillow fight was shut down by Belinda walking in. Alex hid the pillow behind his back. “Dr. Mordant.”

The blonde seemed thoroughly amused. “Xander.” Belinda snorted. “Have fun, boys. I better not get hit by a pillow.”

The second Belinda turned her back, Lance chucked a pillow straight at her head. The blonde whipped around. “Lance!”

The man smiled. Belinda picked up the pillows and threw it at him before walking to her room. Lance huffed. Alex raised an eyebrow. “Somebody has a crush.”

Lance smacked him lightly. “Shut up.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “If you want to attract her, you’re going to have to do better than that.”

Lance looked at him. “What do you mean?”

Alex shrugged. “She already knows you’re very manly and probably make decent money. Now you need to show her that you can be nice and cultured.”

Lance blinked. “Nice? Cultured? I’m an assassin.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Buddy, just take her to a science fiction movie and a really expensive dinner. And, for the love of God, let the waiter pick the wine.”

Lance let out a sigh. “I can do that.”

The man paused in his musings. “Do you think she’d go out with me? I mean, she has a doctorate and I was sent to jail in like middle school.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Eh, probably. Besides, her last date was a man who lied to her for nearly a decade and turned out to be a serial killing cannibal who was super classy on the surface. After that, I think she’ll respect your honesty.”

Lance grinned. “I might just do that.”

Alex decided to go to bed before Lance talked about anything that might leave him with scarring mental images.

* * *

Rhea was frustrated. Female SCORPIA agents were “highly recommended” to be on long-term birth control or medically sterilized. Her career was going well, besides a few minor...women’s health issues. Male agents were given the option of a vasectomy, of course. “Are you sure nothing is wrong?”

The nurse frowned at her. “We’ll run some tests, but since your implant was placed in your arm two years ago, your bleeding shouldn’t be too irregular. If it happens again, we can remove it and talk about your other options.”

Rhea had not exactly been thrilled when her birth control implant had caused her to have a six-week period. The nurse had said it was not that uncommon, but the implant would have to be removed if the bleeding didn’t stop after two months. Then her period had stopped for almost two full years before she spotted irregularly again. This time, for two weeks. It was irksome. It did not help her concentration for sniping. The nurse’s expression softened as she drew her blood. “If the cramps are debilitating, we can do a further examination. There are certain conditions that might affect your future health, especially if you ever want children. Er, not that it’s required. It’s perfectly fine to never want children.”

Rhea interrupted before the nurse could nervously ramble further. “It’s fine. They’re simply...irritating.”

The woman finished taking her blood. “Well, err, you could always find a masseuse or something. The female orgasm can also help alleviate the cramps if they’re purely muscular.”

Rhea resisted a flush. “I’m not ready for men.”

The nurse blinked. “Sex toys are also an option. I like vibrators, but…”

Rhea had a feeling this was going to be a long awkward visit to the clinic as a faint blush rose to her cheeks. 

* * *

Alex woke up to three adults waiting for him in the living room. “What the hell, guys?”

Lance opened his mouth. “Well, you’re twelve now and we decided to talk-”

Alex held up a hand. “I’m going to stop you right there. Safe sex? STD’s? Consent? Birth control?”

Lance squinted. “Uhhh, yes.”

Alex snorted. “I’ve had the talk. In excruciating detail. Thank you. I’m going to eat my breakfast and look none of you in the eyes for the rest of the day now.”

Lance shrugged and looked very relieved. “Cool with me.”

Micheal was staring into his plate. Belinda was looking thoroughly amused by the entire spectacle. Alex knew an actual teen would be awkward, but was internally laughing his ass off. So, murder is fine, but the second you bring up sex, it’s awkward? This was so...American of them. Alex got up. “Excuse for a minute.”

Alex got up and walked to his room. He embraced Fenrir and then laughed hysterically into the wolf’s fur. It was a few minutes before someone came for him. Alex choked back a laugh and set his face into a neutral expression. It was Belinda. “Draw the short straw, did we?”

The blonde woman rolled her eyes. “Americans.”

That was all that needed to be said by either of them. Alex shrugged and followed her out. Xander had a sinking suspicion that Belinda knew exactly what he’d been doing. It wasn’t that the topic at hand was funny. It was just...humorously normal to the backdrop of assassin school. The fact that they got breakfast in their apartment suggested that the school thought it was a big deal. Card was eyeing them all curiously when Alex stepped out. Alex arched a brow. “Is there something you need, Card?”

The eyes blinked at him. “Actually, yes. My office, all of you, now.”

Alex followed the man into his office. Card turned on the TV. It was Alex’s face. Card turned off the TV. “I’m sure you get the idea. The real questions here are why and why now.”

Alex was very confused. “I honestly thought nobody would report me missing.”

Alex was treated to the appalled and horrified looks of four adults. The dots on the floor were fascinating. “We’re going to discuss options here.”

* * *

Alexander looked genuinely worried. Card sighed. “You’re too young for plastic surgery, in all honesty.”

Card opened a file. “We have several other options, but none of them are great.”

Xander blinked. “Like what?”

Card heaved a moderately heavy chest onto his desk. Xander moved to help him. “This is a nearly complete disguise box. You can practice with Lance in your mentorship hour. It’ll work for short term stuff.”

Card looked at the file. “There’s a surgery that will turn your eyes blue, but it’s permanent and our faculty is uncomfortable with that.”

Alex shifted. Card took that to mean he was overtly uncomfortable with that option, not that he blamed the kid. To be honest, eye stuff made him squeamish. It had been him who nixed the idea. “There are more experimental options, but I’m thoroughly against all of them.”

Alex visibly cringed at that. Belinda cut in, her eyes like chips of ice. “Given his experience with his relatives, I would not recommend medical experiments of any kind.”

Card sighed heavily. He hadn’t exactly wanted to believe the worst of Ian Rider. Besides, some of this shit made him go squick inside. It was fucking creepy. And maybe he felt mildly protective. Alex was so young. “I happen to agree with you here.”

Alex was visibly relieved, not that Card blamed him. Plastic surgery was hideously painful and carried several risks. Also, being a lab rat was never fun. Card turned his gaze on Alex. “How do you want this handled?”

Alex blinked. “What do you mean?”

Card shrugged. “Do you want me to go to bat for you?”

Alex shrugged. “Keep them away from me, but don’t start a war or anything.”

Card shut the folder. “I’ll keep that in mind. Dismissed. Xander, stay behind.”

The adults looked unhappy but filed out.

* * *

Alex felt his nervousness increase ten-fold. Card spoke up. “I...don’t normally handle this sort of thing, but...how are you setting in?”

Alex had a sinking suspicion that the man was dancing around a different question, but decided to humor him for now. “It’s fine. Err...I like it here.”

Card looked relieved. “Good, good.” The man coughed awkwardly. Alex got the distinct feeling that Card was emotionally stunted and awkward at discussing feelings. Or he was getting suspicious. Alex felt the dread pool in his stomach. “Xander, I want to ask this in the nicest, most sensitive way possible.” There was a pause. Alex felt himself begin to panic. “How bad was your home life?”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it. Well, it was better than “are you a traitor”. The hysterical laughter bubbled up within him before he could restrain it. This was the man he was supposed to betray. Fuck. Card was looking alarmed at his reaction. Nobody had ever fucking asked. Card looked hesitant. Alex felt rather than saw the slap. He immediately sobered up. “Sorry, nobody ever bothered asking before.”

Card sighed. “I’m sorry for slapping you, but I had no idea what else to do.”

Alex wiped tears of...mirth off of his face. “Uh, well. It wasn’t too bad. Ian was away a lot, so he hired somebody to look after me. The academic and athletic expectations were more challenging than here. Uh, my aunt kind of slashed me once. I think they’ve all committed at least one war crime in front of me. And, well, I’ve been... _ altered _ .”

Card swallowed and rubbed his eyes. “I see. Can I get you any more support? We have excellent counseling services. I’m sure we could try for a support grou-”

Alex held up a hand. “I’m good, thank you.”

Card looked distinctly relieved. It was probably less paperwork. No way the man would care about him. “Okay. I’ll take your word for it.” Alex mentally breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure he was good enough to fake it for therapy. “But, if I see one single sign of mental deterioration, I’m calling in so many specialists that your head will spin.” Alex raised an eyebrow at the man, who chuckled. “Kid, homicidal teens are scary enough. We don’t need more bullshit.” Alex sat stupefied in his chair. “All right, Xander, get out of my office. And don’t forget your disguise kit!”

Alex would have forgotten the disguise kit. He picked up the chest and walked out, failing to notice Card’s look directed at his back. It was a look of curiosity. After all, the chest was far heavier than Alex should be able to lift without trouble.

* * *

When Alex walked out, all of the adults mobbed him. “What did he want?”

Alex was surprised that it was Micheal, not Larry, who was asking. “Er, he wanted to ask if I was alright.”

Lance huffed. “He must actually like you. Card  _ never  _ asked about  _ my _ welfare.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You’d be offended if he did, now wouldn’t you?”

Lance scowled. They both knew Alex was right. “That’s not the point.”

Belinda looked amused at Lance getting huffy. The blond woman offered her hand. “Walk with me.”

Alex took it. They left the building through an unfamiliar door, leaving two men with confused expressions behind him. Alex felt guilt beginning to gnaw at him. “What am I supposed to do?”

Belinda looked at him. “Oh?”

Alex crossed his arms. “I like them, the people here.”

Belinda shrugged. “You can be fond of someone and still kill them.”

Alex huffed. “Since when? I’m not a bloody sociopath!”

Belinda offered him her arm. “You are and will never be cut out for deep cover work, but I think you knew that already.”

Alex felt himself beginning to tear up and forced it down. He was going to have a stomachache. “I know.”

Belinda’s face softened and Alex was unexpectedly pulled into a hug. Alex buried his face in her shoulder. Soft delicate hands traced their way through his hair. Belinda spoke in a barely audible whisper. “You’ll be fine, Alex.”

Lance picked that moment to interrupt them. “Why does he get hugs and not me?”

Belinda smirked. “Because I know for a fact and can confirm he showers regularly.”

Lance looked outraged. “We all shower twice a day!”

Alex felt himself laugh despite everything else going on. Belinda and Lance didn’t seem to notice. Micheal gave him a bemused look. “Let’s go back in.”

They left the adults to it.

* * *

Patrick opened the report he’d finally got his hands on. The first few paragraphs made him prouder than he would ever admit. However, when he got to the last of Belinda’s notes, he paused. “Alex Rider, as he prefers to be known, is thoroughly unsuited to long term deep cover.”

Patrick inhaled sharply and closed his eyes. Why hadn’t she talked him out of it, then? Patrick would be the first to admit that if you had his psych profile from that age side-by-side with Alex’s, they would be indistinguishable. The one time he’d done long term undercover...well, he still saw their faces, even though it was over a century ago. The genetic modification afforded them quite a few advantages, including an extended lifespan, but it didn’t remove that much of your humanity. Some family members were simply more sociopathic than others. Patrick grit his teeth. He would just have to hope Belinda was as good as her file had claimed to be. Marion was hovering, again. Patrick found the pace of her attachment to Alex a little disturbing. “Well?”

Patrick shook his head. “It’s not going to be pretty.”

Marion huffed. “You’re hoarding information again.”

Patrick arched a brow. “I think you and Ian have made enough messes where Alex is involved, thank you.”

Marion practically hissed. “I blame Ian for this. He didn’t warn Alex, there was no explanation or preamble-”

Patrick cut her off with a glare. “Both of you are banned from alone time with him until further notice  _ for a reason _ , little miss war crimes.”

Marion huffed. “Hypocrite!”

Patrick snorted. “At least I refrained from, oh, executing prisoners and mass-murdering children in front of him.”

Marion scowled. “They were clones.”

Patrick sighed. “They were Alex’s age.”

Marion paused. “He said he forgave me!”

Patrick closed the file as Marion approached his desk. “Forgave, perhaps, but I doubt he forgot that you were capable of murdering young children his age.”

Marion growled. “You’ve done way worse things than me!”

Patrick shrugged. “Yes, but not in front of the children. Also, remind me, how many times has Alex had to save your asses?”

Marion glared. “That wasn’t my fault!”

Patrick glared. “Yes, it was. You and Ian need to get over your little habit of refusing to take the blame for anything that goes wrong that you should have foreseen!”

Marion huffed. “Not everyone is a tactical genius!”

Patrick snapped. “Maybe not, but I expect a modicum of common fucking sense!”

Marion stomped out. Patrick figured that she had realized she wasn’t going to get her way for once. There was no way he was letting her near Alex unsupervised anymore.

* * *

John Crawley was, well, unhappy. Ian was kind of a wreck and he was at a loss. Jack and Tom were quietly seething about something. Ian wasn’t talking about it. The man’s last missions had been bloody and explosive. John walked up to Ian and put an arm around him. Ian brightened slightly. “John.”

He looked into the deep brown eyes. “Ian.”

The man embraced him fully. Crawley felt the frame of the man against him. Ian had been working out more, lately. Under normal circumstances, he’d be encouraging that change, but Crawley had a feeling Ian was using it as an escape. “You’re not yourself, Ian.”

Ian huffed. “Of course, I’m not myself! Alex is gone! Gone! He’s in an unstable warzone!”

The man burst into tears. Crawley held the man. Ian continued. “He’s only twelve. He’s only twelve.”

They stood there a while together. The door banged open. Jack’s mouth opened at the sight of them. “Alex sent Tom a postcard.”

Ian stiffened against Crawley. John ran his hands through Ian’s hair. “Maybe in a little while.”

Ian moved to pull away, but Crawley made sure to lock his arms around Ian. The man could break his hold if he wanted to, but Ian wouldn’t hurt him like that. Jack eyed their position. “Alright, then. Tom stuck it on the mantle.”

The door shut. “Why’d you stop me from going?”

John gave Ian a look. “You need to slow down and take a breath.”

Ian snuggled up to him. “It was nice, you should do that more often.”

John raised an eyebrow but decided not to question his partner’s mood swings. Ian was still breathing hard from his crying fit. John felt a familiar twinge start in his leg and mentally cursed. “Ian, I need to sit.”

Ian released him. John sat on the couch and was surprised when Ian plopped himself in his lap. “This is nice too.”

John blinked. He saw the almost black shadows under Ian’s eyes. “You’re a mess, Ian.”

Ian blinked and John was reminded of a sleepy cat. “Oh, but you like me anyway.”

John rubbed Ian’s back and kissed him on the forehead. “Yes, god help me.”

Ian slumped against him. It took Crawley a bit to realize that Ian had just fallen asleep.

* * *

Alex woke up the next day with a feeling of dread. Fenrir whined. It was the beginning of another long day. Alex hastily dressed, even though he knew Lance would bring him food if he missed breakfast. Belinda was sitting on the couch. Alex felt like her sleep schedule was deeply unnatural. “Do you ever actually sleep?”

Belinda got up and stretched, smirking. “Yes.”

Alex rolled his eyes. A pillow hit him in the face. “What was that for?”

Belinda arched a brow. “Don’t think I didn’t see that eye roll.”

Lance huffed. “Did you just roll your eyes at Belinda?”

Alex blinked. “Lance, you took me on a fucking assassination mission.”

Lance grinned. “That’s no excuse to be rude!”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you constantly call your colleagues losers within earshot?”

Lance made a noise in the back of his throat. “That’s not the point!”

Alex grinned and retorted in a singsong voice. “Hypocrite.”

Lance grabbed him. “Insufferable brat.”

Alex blinked. “You like me, though.”

Lance snorted as he all but dragged Alex to breakfast. “Unfortunately.”

Alex felt like whining. “Laaaance.”

Lance groaned. “Please stop.”

Alex smirked. “Why, did you get drunk, stay up late, and screw my shrink by accident?”

Alex heard sharp intakes of breath from the people in the cafeteria. “Yeah, how’d you know?”

Alex let out a shriek. “That was a joke!”

Lance’s look was a little too gleeful. “Well, that’s a shame.”

Alex covered his ears. “My innocent ears.”

Lance retorted. “Innocent my ass! You and Micheal make lewd jokes every time you think we aren’t listening!”

Card was looking fairly alarmed. “Break it up, you two. No fighting in the cafeteria.”

Larry pouted. “We were bickering, ya dipshit.”

Card’s eye twitched. “Shut the fuck up and sit down, Lance.”

Lance grinned. “Sure thing, boss.”

The rest of breakfast was eaten silently.

* * *

Archer and Aiden approached him after his private ballet lessons. Xander was a little surprised. The other children had been quite a bit more reticent than Ken, Abigail, Eric, and Madison. Alex had mentally nicknamed those two “the twins” because they always seemed to hang out together. Also, they appeared to be the same height and age. “Er, hi.”

Alex cursed mentally. He was fucking twenty mentally and still didn’t know how to talk to people. “Hello, Xander.”

Alex thought them speaking together was fucking creepy. “Do you need help with your homework?”

Alex was grasping at straws here. They were heading to the locker room, for god’s sake. “Not exactly.”

Alex was trying not to be creeped out, he really was. This was almost as bad as Julius. Archer and Aiden were at the age where Alex wasn’t sure if they had murdered anyone or not. The school was kind of weird that way. The two followed him on his jog. Alex wondered if he shouldn’t palm his knife now. “What’s it like? Killing people?”

Alex’s creep-dar was not being quieted. He guessed that they hadn’t been “on-assignment” before, then. “Bloody.”

Alex increased his speed deliberately. Archer sped up. “C’mon, none of the older students will say anything. How come you got a real assignment before us?”

Alex tended to forget that some of the kids competed for and wanted assignments at these sorts of places. “Uh, because I killed people before coming here.”

Archer joined them. Alex could see them beginning to tire. “You must like it then.”

Alex stopped and the two nearly crashed into him. “No, I don’t. I’m just good at it.”

Alex started running again, this time going full speed so those two couldn’t keep up with him. It was the first time he was grateful for the injections Ian had given him. The rest of his classmates stared a bit but wisely didn’t say anything. It would be rude, and Ms. Davis would calmly lecture at them. Ms. Allen seemed to notice what was going on and put Aiden and Archer in the back of the line for practice for the day. The two boys did not look at all pleased. Allen held him back after class. “Have they been bothering you?”

Alex looked at the woman. Thankfully, his next class was after lunch. “They seem a little obsessed with killing people.”

Allen pinched the bridge of her nose. “They’re jealous and a touch overeager.”

Alex bit his lower lip. “They haven’t-”

Allen shook her head. “No.”

The woman’s face softened from steel to granite. “Go to lunch, Xander.”

Alex walked off. Allen was okay, in her terse little way.

* * *

Jet was frowning. “He’s not replying as much.”

Gordon plopped himself down. “Still longing after the old white dude?”

Jet arched a brow. “Yes, well, he, unlike you, is quite funny.”

Gordon pouted. “I’m funny.”

Jet snorted. “Also, Professor Emrys has a doctorate.”

Gordon huffed. “What are you going to do? Have sex with his diploma?”

Jet slapped him. “I am enjoying a professional relationship and friendship with an intellectual equal.”

Her cheeks were dark. Gordon smirked. “Suuure.”

Jet glared. “He sent me such wonderful samples from the Amazon.”

Gordon grinned. “Oooh, he sent you flowers. He’s in loooove.”

Jet gave up on smacking Gordon and hit him with her lunch tray instead. “It was a corpse-flower.”

Gordon cackled. “It’ll help cover up the smell of the rotting housewives you poison for being too snotty when you get married and retire.”

Jet glared at him. “Gordon, I am going to pick the nastiest, most deadly flower I own-”

Jet cut herself off as Doctor Three entered. “Greetings.”

The man sat next to Jet and Gordon, both of whom paled. “Afternoon, Doctor.”

The man looked at Jet. “I heard from _ the package office _ that you have a new acquaintance.”

Jet looked down at her plate. “It’s not like he knows who I am really.”

Three gave her a look. “He sent you plant samples. Illegally smuggled plant samples. And somehow got his hands on our address.”

Jet flushed. “Oh.”

Three glanced at her. “Yes, oh.”

Jet gulped. “Fortunately for you, he passed our clearance check. Don’t let it happen again.”

The man rose. “Also, you are responsible for his execution, should he put together who you are.”

Jet swallowed as Doctor Three walked off. Gordon was equally pale. After all, the only reason Three would let him listen in was that the warning was for both of them.

* * *

Charles was about halfway to his destination before he had to start changing his appearance to match Maddox’s papers. Charles figured it was a reasonable precaution. He had also started gaining weight again. Being in rural villages tended to cut down on the amount of processed crap you had access to. Charles sighed as he rinsed out the hair dye. It was weird to see his hair all black instead of its natural color. At least the dye wasn’t the cheap shit he and his buddies had used for laughs in college. At the rate he was changing colors, it would have made his hair fall out. Charles was almost so unaware of his surroundings that he almost didn’t notice the fight that broke out in front of him. It was four on one. Charles knew he shouldn’t get involved, but any kind of teaming up on people like that had always ground his gears. Also, the slim, short man looked fragile and already seemed to have a few broken bones. Charles sighed and pulled out his gun. Four people were shot down. The slender man turned around. “You alright, mate?”

The man looked half? A quarter? Chinese. “Ah, a British man.”

Charles was surprised to hear an upper-class British accent and mentally whacked himself for being racist. “Dr. Brandon. You can call me Charles.” The slim

man shook his hand and winced. “Winston. Are you a medical doctor?”

Charles glanced at the corpses and then at the tiny man in front of him. “Er, I kind of...do medicine for barter. Do you want me to fix you up?”

Winston gave him a slight smile. “That would be nice of you, Charles.”

Charles sighed. Winston didn’t seem all that threatening. “Alright, let’s head back to my place. I’m afraid I can’t sedate you safely.”

Winston shrugged. “Setting the bones will do fine.”

Charles blinked. “Brittle bone disease?”

Winston sighed. “Yes.”

Charles mentally groaned. “Yeah, it’s good to know. I might have accidentally broken something else setting it otherwise.”

Winston looked startled at that. “Were you in the army, by any chance?”

Charles sighed. “Yes.”

Winston shrugged. “It shows.”

Charles felt a little huffy but opened the door to his place.

* * *

Winston Yu was surprised. First by the attack in the alley and then by the way it had ended. It wasn’t often that he was without his many guards, but occasionally he had reason to be without them. Winston didn’t dare ask Charles, if that was his real name, about his motivation in saving him, let alone treating him. The man was easily a foot taller and at least fifty kilograms of muscle heavier. Winston couldn’t be sure it wasn’t a set-up by one of his more devious colleagues, but, as Charles delicately strapped him down and explained what was going to happen, he was oddly reassured. Charles seemed to have at least at one point been a legitimate doctor. Winston knew enough medicine to know when people were bullshitting him. After the last of six bones were set, the man let him up. “Are you in some sort of legal trouble?”

Really, what was a competent doctor doing on the street? Charles laughed. “You could say that. How about this? I won’t ask about your dealings with triads and you don’t ask about my legal problems.”

Winston resisted a pout.  _ Patience is a virtue _ . “That’s no fun.”

Charles sighed. “Mate, I’m dropping you off wherever you want and leaving the country tomorrow.”

Winston frowned. This man seemed to have genuinely no idea who he was. Then again, he wasn’t an open secret like  _ some  _ board members. “Are you in that much trouble?”

Charles shook his head. “A friend is.”

Winston eyed the quarters more closely. They were exceptionally clean for this part of town. Charles must have cleaned them himself. “Forget them. Come work for me.”

Charles shook his head. “I don’t leave people behind.”

Winston sighed. “I’m rich.”

Charles gave him a derisive look. Winston wondered why it was only after he became wealthy that he met people who didn’t care about money. “If I only cared about money, I wouldn’t be here, now would I?”

Winston was pretty sure he had offended the man. “I meant no offense.”

Charles rubbed his eyes. “Nah, I’m just snappy.”

Winston sighed. “Must be some friend.”

Charles smiled softly. “The best.”

Winston settled into a dingy chair as he considered kidnapping “Charles”. It would be so much effort, but potentially worth it. “How did you two meet?”

Charles snorted. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Basically, he found out who killed my father.”

Winston had more questions than answers, but Charles walked off. Winston watched the man dye his hair in the sink. He was dodgy.

* * *

Charles felt bad about injecting an unknowing patient while setting their bones, but he wasn’t about to take any more unwarranted risks. To assuage his guilt, he wrote a note, bought breakfast, and paid the room out for the day. Maddox had sent him so many disapproving texts afterward. Blah, blah, don’t save random people, blah, blah. Charles gave no shits. He had morals and he was sticking to them. Besides, he had a train to catch. The airport was too far away in a hot country to walk. Charles couldn't shake the feeling that he’d done something he shouldn’t have. Oh, well. He refused to watch any more people getting beaten to death in alleys, thank you. Charles handed in his ticket and tuned out the conversations that he didn’t understand. It was going to be a long day for him. His phone buzzed.

* * *

_ -C _

_ Seat  _ 32C.  _ Check the armrests. _

_ -M _

* * *

Charles knew the armrests would contain money, his next identity, and his next set of travel plans. This was getting tiring. He supposed he’d be dying his hair in a train bathroom.

* * *

Winston Yu knew he’d been drugged the instant he woke. There was a note on the bedside table.

* * *

_ Winston _

_ I’m sorry for drugging you, but I couldn’t take any chances. Breakfast is in the fridge and you have the room for the day. I’ll be out of the country by the time you read this. Try not to go in any more dark alleys, okay? _

_ Charles _

* * *

Despite the circumstances, Winston found himself wanting to laugh out loud. It was the best night of sleep he’d had in nearly three decades. Also, Charles was too nice to be real. After a short call to some subordinates, Winston was back with his very on-edge security in a house he owned. “Yesterday, there was an attempt on my life. It was stopped. Not by you. Not by me. By some random man, I met in the street. Luck. I’m alive due to pure luck. You’re lucky it’s more trouble than it’s worth to fire the lot of you.”

There was dead silence. “Now, I want every scrap of information on anyone named Doctor Charles Brandon.”

The people scurried off. Yu was unsympathetic. His current head of security had already been taken care of. He had a certain British doctor to look up. A man scurried up to him. “Is this what he looks like?”

Winston blinked. “Yes.”

He used his real name?! “Well, uh, he served in the army, got his medical degree, came back home to investigate his father’s death, and, apparently, snapped and kidnapped a twelve-year-old and is now wanted by Interpol.”

Winston honestly wondered how the man had lasted this long. Charles seemed like a man with morals. “Unofficially, he kidnapped Alex Rider, so god knows what kind of mess he’s tangled up in and MI6 wants his head on a platter.”

Rider. It had been over a decade since he last heard that name. “Rider?”

The man paled. “Yeah, born to Helen and John Rider, currently being raised by one Ian Rider.”

Yu felt a surge of rage at the name. Then again, the boy hadn’t done anything. Yet. “And how is that working out?”

There was more typing. “Not well. Alex was on Interpol’s wanted list, supposedly for mass murdering CIA operatives, but the...FSB had him removed and reclassified as a kidnapping victim. He’s currently missing, no satellite images in the past two months.”

Yu blinked. “Files on both of them. My desk. First thing.”

What did a supposedly insane ex-army doctor want with a child assassin who was being raised as somebody’s weapon gone rogue? “Sir?”

Winston felt his eye twitch. “Yes?”

The man paled under his direct gaze. “Alex Rider is presumed dead.”

Yu was not in the mood. “Alex Rider is considered alive until I see his cold corpse myself. Is that clear?”

The man nodded. “Yes, sir.”

Yu ignored the squeak at the end of his voice. This was tiring. He was going to his office. There was always more paperwork.

* * *

Brendan Chase felt...rejected. Pierre hadn’t answered his letters in weeks. Sure, he knew the guy was in South America for “extended business” and would be out of contact for a while. Still, he paid to express goddamn post the letters for a reason. “Nile.”

The man shot out of his chair. “Sir.”

Chase drummed his fingers against the desk. “Go to South America, find Pierre, and make friends with him.”

Nile squirmed. “Uh, how?”

Chase was not in the mood. This was why he needed Pierre. He would bet good money that Pierre had never asked how to do anything in his life. “I don’t know, Nile, start with the PO box his bank forwards to. It’s your problem now.”

Nile looked pensive. “Can I have my combat team?”

Chase squinted at him. “I said make friends with him, not kidnap him.”

Nile looked at the man. “He’s antisocial.”

Chase glared. “You met Pierre?!”

Nile blinked. “Uh, not exactly. Yassen bitches about him constantly. Blah, blah. Unmanageable. Blah, blah.”

Chase muttered under his breath. Nile doubted it was flattering things about Yassen. “Wait,  _ Yassen _ ?”

Nile mentally groaned. “What’s the big deal?”

Chase squinted at him. “You used to call him Cossack.”

Chase looked at him. “I mean this in the nicest way possible, but are you two together?”

Nile turned bright red. “NO!”

Chase shrugged. “Just making sure.”

Nile sputtered. “What-Why-”

Chase snorted. “Stranger things have happened around here.”

Nile had no words. “Now, go find Pierre and get on speaking terms. I doubt communicating with Cossack does good things for the man’s sanity.”


	66. Discoveries and Discussions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case you didn't see my modified tags, this chapter has crossdressing by Alex for disguise purposes. I'm not sure how controversial that is in this day and age, but consider this your fair warning.

Nile had taken the private jet to South America after a short detour to threaten the PO box address out of the bank. It had been surprisingly easy, but Nile prided himself on being intimidating. Nile knew for a fact the “Alec Pierre” was Alex Rider, but wasn’t going to tell his boss about it. Nile was mainly coming to South America for a free vacation and to ask Alex how he wanted to play this. Because he wasn’t about to fork a snarky twelve-year-old over to his boss. Fourteen was slightly better, but not by much. It was time to track down Alex Rider. He decided to start with the mysterious murder of a small MI6 outpost. It seemed like Alex-as-Pierre’s style. Go in, kill everybody, get out, leave no trace. Nile stepped off the plane and into the dingy not-an-airport. God, he hated humidity. It made his disguises that much harder. “Time to get started.” It was weird being alone. He wondered how Alex and Yassen managed. Nile preferred having his combat team near him at all times. Nile summoned a taxi to the town the PO box supposedly existed in. It took about two hours to get there with traffic in Mexico. Nile had a newfound hatred of the cities. He spoke Spanish passably, but it gave him a headache. He was a swords guy, not a language guy. That was what short nerdy dudes like Yassen and Alex were for. Not that Nile would ever say that to Yassen’s face. He liked breathing and having all of his internal organs, thank you. Nile walked into the post office. Fifteen minutes and several questions later, Nile felt like screaming. The PO box didn’t exist according to this post office. The man had seemed very nervous while answering his questions. Nobody seemed to know where the set of PO boxes existed, according to the computer system. Nile was very grumpy. Of course, spy boy couldn’t make hunting him down effortless; that would be too easy. There was a more direct route he could take. He’d poached one of Alex’s numbers from the MI6 files. Nile doubted Alex’s phone was connected to a battery at the moment, though. There was one other way he could get to Alex. Presumably, mail got to him somehow. Nile would try sending letters with and without trackers from different addresses. That should work. Maybe Alex would actually answer him.

* * *

Tom Card was unhappy to hear that a SCORPIA operative was here and looking for Alex’s post office box. It was unseemly. He’d summoned Alex for close to the record number of times someone had been called to the office due to outside circumstances. “So, a man named Nile is looking for your post office box.”

Alex’s mouth dropped open and the kid blanched. Card thought that this was an entirely reasonable response. “Oh, no.”

The kid looked like he was about to faint. Which was...also a reasonable reaction. “It’s okay, he won’t find you here.”

Card occasionally wondered if hugging people was appropriate. HR said no, but sometimes life got in the way, y’know. “I’m really sorry! He’s been stalking me for ages.”

Alex promptly started crying. Card stepped out from behind the desk, mentally prayed that nobody would accuse him of being a child molester, and hugged Alex. The kid seemed inconsolable. “It’s going to be okay.”

Card awkwardly patted the kid’s shoulder. Thankfully, Alex seemed to be calming down. Card used his other hand to open the drawer he kept the tissues in. “He put like five dead people in my backyard once.”

The kid seemed to be winding down now, thank God. “Well, that’s just creepy.”

Alex giggled at that. “It is.”

Card lightly rubbed the kid’s back before releasing him and handing him tissues. “Right, well, I’m sorry for upsetting you, but I thought you should know.”

Alex was wiping his face. “Um, what if he does find the compound.”

Card looked at him. “This compound is very well guarded, don’t worry.”

A pair of big brown eyes looked at him. “Are you sure he can’t get in?”

Card paused. “Alright, c’mon, I’m gonna take you on a little tour. I’ll show you just how safe you are.”

Alex perked up a bit. “Okay.”

* * *

Alex could not believe that it had been that easy to get Card to show him every last security feature the entire compound had. He hadn’t had to dredge up too many feelings from deep down to start crying on cue. Card had promptly dropped him off with Belinda. Alex started feeling mildly guilty about the whole thing. He was, at least, trying to be nice, other than the whole child assassin training thing. Belinda was looking at him, bemused. “You know, besides the whole forcing orphans to be assassins thing, he’s nice.”

Belinda gave him a look that suggested he was losing his mind. “Tom Card is many things, but he is not a nice man. Besides the ‘child assassins thing’, he runs an extension of the CIA that traffics in both drugs and people. He is an accomplished sniper. Card is well known for creating some of the best intelligence agents the world has seen and is not afraid to break adults or children for it.”

Alex sighed. “He’s nice to me.”

Belinda arched a brow. “This is why you’re unsuited to long-term cover. You get attached.”

Alex crossed his arms. “I’m not a bloody sociopath.”

Belinda paused. “No, you’re not. While you do have some extremely sociopathic traits, you experience the full range of human emotion.”

Alex sighed. “Nice of you to notice.”

Belinda leaned back. “Do you often have problems with people...assuming certain things?”

Alex sat down. “I did before. I mean, I do.”

Belinda took a sip of water. “You seem bothered by it.”

Alex shrugged. “I guess I am.”

Belinda shrugged. “For someone who claims not to care what others think, you seem to spend a lot of time trying to correct the image of yourself in their minds.”

Alex glared. “I’m  _ not _ my father and I’m certainly not Yassen. I dislike the comparison.”

Belinda sighed. “Alex, you cannot control the thoughts or actions of others completely. You can influence them. You can kill them. But everyone has a mind of their own. You can only truly control your own actions.”

Alex sighed. “What about what Doctor Three does?”

Belinda smirked. “Doctor Three is a man who delights in and studies the shattering of the human psyche. He can be resisted; however, I would advise you not to try to challenge him in the mind games arena.”

Alex blinked. “What about what the rest of SCORPIA does?”

Belinda shrugged. “Everyone in SCORPIA has a choice. Sometimes the only other option is death, but there are always at least two options.”

Alex sat down. “Why are you telling me this?”

Belinda smirked. “Why do you care about what people think of you?”

Alex sighed. “I guess...because it makes me more normal. Because my life once depended on being seen as normal. I think I let it become a bit of a mania.”

Belinda paused. “Understandable. But keep in mind, our plan now depends on you being  _ not  _ normal. You’ll need to shine as a cut above the rest. For once, you can feel free to let your talents speak for themselves.”

Alex blinked. “Just think about it, Alex.”

Alex could feel a headache coming on as he went to cuddle Fenrir in his room.

* * *

Lance came into his room after dinner. “I heard in the teachers’ lounge that you had a rough day.”

Alex groaned and put his face into his pillow. “Please tell me nothing from those meetings spreads to the student body.”

Lance sat down next to him. “Officially, yes.”

Alex sighed. “And unofficially?”

Lance grinned. “Expect Eric and Madison to be extra clingy tomorrow. The older two students are going to be warned.”

Alex blinked. “They’re not a match for Nile.”

Lance looked at him. “That’s why we’re telling them. So they don’t try anything stupid.”

Alex flushed. “Right, sorry.”

Lance grinned. “Poor Kenneth and Abigail are feeling ever so overprotective.”

Alex groaned and flipped Larry off. “Lance, I hate you sometimes.”

Lance grinned. “Good, good. Means I’m doing my job.”

Lance poked him. “Quit sulking, you drama queen. We’re going to do something fun.”

Alex blinked. “Your version of fun or fun.”

Lance grinned. “Actually fun. Break into your disguise kit, would you?”

Alex got up and opened the chest. “How far are we going to go?”

Lance shrugged. “We’ll start slow. I know changing your appearance can be hard sometimes.”

Alex looked at the man like he was crazy. “Dude, I’ve cross-dressed.”

Larry looked at him and cackled. “Do you want to, though?”

Alex shrugged. “I don’t mind it.”

The man’s eyes lit up. “We’re gonna have some extra fun, then.”

Alex had to hand it to Lance. As much as the man seemed to talk about stuff being “manly” or “unmanly”, - Alex thought it was pure rubbish - he didn’t say a word about Alex crossdressing for disguise purposes. The man gently placed a necklace around his neck after the rest of it was finished. “Have you ever done this before?”

Lance blinked. “No. By the time I entered the company, I didn’t have the figure for it anymore.”

Alex resisted the urge to touch his face. He wondered how women put up with this stuff daily. It was itchy and felt like drying mud. The eyeliner and shadow were the worst. Alex wondered why people had decided on glittering grey but decided not to question it. Belinda had helped him with the makeup. The woman stepped in. “Ready, you two?”

Alex rose. Walking and moving like this still felt unnatural, though he’d practiced with Gillian. Alex chanced a glance in the mirror. The girl that stared back at him bore a striking resemblance to his mother. He blinked. “You know, I always wanted a daughter.”

Alex turned towards the man with an arched brow. “Why don’t you have one, then?”

Lance looked at Belinda. “Never met the right woman, you know.”

Lance offered Alex his hand. Alex took it. “Let’s go.”

* * *

Alex walked out with Larry. The man seemed a lot more protective of him as a girl than as a boy. He shot Michael a quizzical look. Belinda seemed vaguely amused by the entire thing. “What the hell, Lance?”

Larry patted his head. “Look, kid, I’m not letting you outside of my sight like this.”

Alex just gave Larry an exasperated look. “There’s a lot of dangerous people out there, Alex.”

Alex just raised a newly darkened eyebrow at him. “Daad.”

Lance shook with a concealed chuckle and said in an undertone. “You’re doing perfectly.”

Alex glared at Lance. The man just looked amused. “So, what did you want to do darling?”

Alex was going to enjoy this. “Let’s go to the arcade.”

Lance huffed. “That’s not very feminine.”

Belinda jammed her elbow into his kidney. “We’re going to the arcade,  _ dear _ .”

Larry looked mildly afraid of her. “Sounds fun.”

He talked to Belinda out of the side of his mouth. “Did you have to do that so hard?”

Belinda glared at him. “Yes.”

Alex gave Belinda his most innocent look. “Did you game when you were a kid, Mom?”

Belinda rose to her full height. “Yes, I did. I beat all the boys’ top scores in Asteroids.”

Larry glanced at her. “Game on, dear.”

Belinda looked at him. “Indeed.”

Alex let those two have the machine as they tried to out-do each other and instead went to Michael. Michael seemed unsure of how to handle the situation. “So, which game do you like?”

Alex grinned. “Let’s find a shooter of some sort.”

Michael rolled his eyes. “Fine, but I get to pick the next one when you lose.”

Alex glared. “Lose?! I’m going to win.”

Michael was amused. “You’re on, Alex.”

The two went off a bit for some friendly competition.

* * *

Nile was not having fun. He had visited every single post box that was listed in the city. It was exhausting. He just wanted to sleep. The letter plan had better work because he would be out of leads, short of asking Yassen to track Alex’s phone. Nile leaned back. What was Chase expecting from him? Pierre/Alex was fairly stealthy when he wasn’t in the middle of blowing shit up or killing people. You’d have to be, to ditch your MI6 guardian, Nile supposed. Nile grumbled. How the hell was he supposed to talk to Alex like this? It was annoying. Sure, he could break him out of that nasty-sounding CIA hellhole, but he figured Alex was there for a reason and really wouldn’t appreciate Nile sticking himself in the middle of that little shit show. On some level, Nile was surprised that Alex hadn’t been shot on the spot. He had murdered a room full of people or at least been entirely complicit in that little bit of theater. Jet had shown the video to her class. And any guests. And anyone she got alone for more than fifteen minutes. Yes, Jet, we get it. Then again, poison was rarely used for something high profile like that. Nile sighed and went back to his hotel and washed off the makeup with a sigh of relief. Wearing the combination of rubber and theater make-up was god-awful for him. Mrs. Rothman had used to needle him by constantly reminding him that it was his fault while he put on his disguise. Mr. Chase was surprisingly sympathetic. Nile thought that it was because the man wasn’t a complete dick. Nile let out a contented little sigh as he broke into his supply of lovely little facemasks. They were so nice and he didn’t care if they were supposed to be for women. Besides, the mask/makeup combination was terrible for his skin, which, frankly, needed all the help it could get. Nile was leaning back and contemplating a bubble bath when the buzzer for his room rang. He drew a knife and stalked towards the door. “I didn’t order anything.”

The woman blinked. “This was sent to you by an anonymous admirer.”

Nile gingerly took the tray, still holding a knife behind the door. “Uh, thanks.”

The woman left. Nile let out a breath and placed it on the table, backing away from the whole thing. It was a fruit bouquet. Odd choice, but okay. Nile grabbed a napkin and opened the card.

* * *

_ Nile, _

_ We should have a little talk. I’ll find you. Try not to die in the next three days. _

_ Patrick Beckett _

_ P.S. It’s not poisoned. My grandson, Alex, would have a fit. _

* * *

Nile stared at the card like it was about to catch fire. Despite being cautioned against such things, his fingers inched towards a chocolate-covered strawberry. Alex had a grandfather?! Oh, right. Yassen had muttered something unflattering in Russian about his “other” relatives. Nile had kind of forgotten that Alex’s mother existed. Or would have family that might care about her surviving son. Details, you know. Ian Rider tended to hog the SCORPIA spotlight. The man didn’t exactly keep a low profile, especially when he had a nasty habit of sending Malagasto-trained assassins back in pieces. Specifically, hacked to pieces with an English Broadsword and sent back in a coffin. Nile figured the postage rates for MI6 were astronomical if they got charged by weight like everybody else. Nile wondered what he would get if he searched SCORPIA files for Patrick. Probably not much, since there were next to no rumors about him. Nile pulled up the files on his computer and his eyes widened. Patrick was marked as “Extremely Dangerous, Do Not Engage”. Nile read on about how the man had fought in quite a few wars and then developed a fighting style to combat the one Yermalov taught for Mossad, presumably as retaliation for his daughter’s death, and taught until he was...seventy. That couldn’t be right. The latest satellite photos made him look about forty or fifty. No way that man was seventy. Nile decided to do a reverse image search. Because why not. Nile stared at the screen. It had to be his father, but, man, they looked alike. It didn’t help that the man was  _ also  _ named Patrick Beckett and fought in the first world war. Really, he’d swear it was the same fucking dude. But...that wasn’t possible. Nile shook his head and erased the search history for the last bit. He was going to that meeting in full battle armor and with all of his weapons.

* * *

Patrick Beckett was a lot of things, but unprepared was rarely one of them. Nile was a dangerous man and, even with the genetic modifications, he was past his prime. Not that he couldn’t beat Nile in a fair fight. It just wasn’t worth the risk of Nile getting in a lucky hit or stab. Patrick sighed as he triple-checked his body armor. It would be hot for this part of Mexico. Plus, it was a special Kevlar-leather hybrid that offered more protection from stabs. Mostly, it meant there was an extra leather layer and more weight. Patrick sighed again. He was getting old for this. Patrick eyed his phone. Sticking a tracker on the elastic portion of Nile’s disguise had been fairly tricky. Patrick parked. He got out and silently crept behind Nile. Patrick then made his move, dropping Nile. Nile immediately grabbed his sword. Patrick grabbed his wrists and pinned them and the man’s legs. “Holy shit, you’re strong.”

Patrick blinked. “Thank you, Nile.”

Nile tried to throw him off. Patrick had expected that tactic and clamped down tighter on the man’s wrists. “You’re terrifying.”

Patrick replied almost without thinking. “No, I’m Patrick.”

Nile tried to struggle against him. “Are you going to get off me?”

Patrick took out a pair of handcuffs and put them on Nile’s hands. And then did the man’s feet. “Eventually.”

Nile smirked. “You’re not my usual type.”

Patrick snorted. “And you’re not mine.”

Nile glared balefully at the man after he was unceremoniously dumped in the car. “You said talk! Not kidnapping!”

Patrick shrugged. “This is a talk. If I was kidnapping you, I would have sedated you by now.”

Nile stared at the man. “I’m starting to see why Alex hates family reunions.”

Patrick hit the brakes, throwing Nile against the back of the front seats. “Don’t be rude.”

Nile groaned. “What do you want, then?”

Patrick shrugged and parallel parked before answering. “Alex seems rather...enamored with you and Yassen.”

Nile gagged. “That sounds vaguely sexual.”

Patrick glared at him. “I want to ask about your intentions towards my grandson.”

Nile sighed. “Me and Yassen-”

Patrick cut him off. “Yassen and I.”

Nile rolled his eyes. “Yassen and I just want a mcfucking apprentice, man.”

Patrick sighed. “I’ve already lost one relative to SCORPIA and her operatives don’t have a particularly long lifespan.”

Nile sighed. “We’ll protect him.”

Patrick retorted. “Given that Yassen is a self-serving sociopath and you’re not any better, I find myself not at all reassured.”

Nile sighed. “Look, he ran away from home and I don’t think he’ll like yours any better. It’s pretty much us or Alex being on his own.”

Patrick glared. “That’s the only reason I’m even considering letting you kidnap him.”

Nile groaned as the car suddenly started again. “Now, I’m going to educate on our family’s general guidelines for raising teen assassins who turn into successful adult assassins.”

Nile blinked. “What about Yassen?”

Patrick slammed on his brakes again. “I have faith Yassen will read the literature I’ve helpfully sent him. You, on the other hand, have a bad track record.”

Nile occasionally wondered why the world hated him some days.

* * *

Alex had had quite a bit of fun on his first cross-dressing adventure. But, he had a few questions. “What was that little overprotective bit about?”

Larry looked at Alex. “I acted how any American father would act with his daughter.”

Alex opened his mouth and closed it. “Right. I can see why they all go apeshit in college.”

Lance rolled his eyes. “It also helped you acting, didn't it?”

Alex huffed. “Yes.”

Larry sat down. “You see, normally, adults don’t abandon their children in public for hours on end.”

Alex glared. “Fuck you.”

Larry held up his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Look, I’m just telling you like it is. What Ian did to you isn’t normal.”

Alex gave Larry the side-eye. “Lance.”

Larry blinked. “Look, kid, it’s not my place, but you can’t deny that you aren’t exactly the picture of average anymore.”

Alex deflated, suddenly. “True.”

Larry poked him. “Don’t look so down, Xany. Being not normal also has its little fun bits.”

Alex swatted the man’s hand. Larry sighed. “Kid, look, I may not be a good man or a good dad, but I’ll try to make this as easy as possible for you.”

Alex got up. “Thanks.”

He was going to bed early. Larry sighed behind him. Alex just wanted to cuddle his dog and go to bed. Alex got to his room and frowned. Something was off. Then, he spotted a few letters on his desk. Huh, they must have gotten past the post office. The post office being Michael. He vaguely wondered if people read them. The letters looked sealed, but that was no guarantee of anything. Alex rolled his eyes. In the morning, he decided. He grabbed his bathroom set. Fenrir whined. “What is it, dog?”

Fenrir huffed and nudged his leg. “More pets?”

Fenrir nearly bowled him over. “More pets.”

Alex sat on the floor petting his dog. Fenrir snuggled up against him, sniffing. “Yeah, yeah. I know I smell weird.”

Alex had used a separate set of scents for his disguise. Fenrir tried to sit in his lap and just sort of slumped on top of him. Alex was still trying to pry his wolf off of him when Larry walked in and cracked up. Alex blinked. “What the hell, Lance?”

Lance wiped away a tear. “Oh, boy. You’re deadly, but when you’re cuddling your dog like that on the floor, you look like a normal cute twelve-year-old.”

Alex fixed Larry with a raised eyebrow. It sent him into another laughing fit. “What are you even here for?”

Lance calmed down a bit. “I wanted to give you this.”

It was chocolate. Alex felt a small bit of warmth for the man. “Thank you!”

Larry grinned. “You’re welcome. Don’t let the dog have any!”

Alex looked at the man. “Goodnight, Lance.”

Lance looked at him. “Goodnight, Xander.”

* * *

Nile was released by Patrick after one of the most unpleasant days he had in a good long while. He was covered in bruises. His wrists were raw from struggling against the handcuffs. Patrick was a fucking  _ monster _ on a level with Yassen. Nile wasn’t sure why he was surprised. Patrick cheerfully pulled up to his hotel. “We’re going for a climb.”

Nile wanted to cry sometimes. Patrick hoisted him up onto his back. Nile groaned. “I’m eleven stories up.”

Patrick shrugged. “We’ll be fine.”

Nile groaned and clutched at the man. Shit. Shit. Shit. He was afraid of heights. “Patrick!” Patrick ignored him and continued scaling the building at a pace that was uncomfortably fast. “Patrick!”

The man continued climbing without pause as he answered Nile. “What?”

He wasn’t even out of breath. “I’m...I’m afraid of heights.”

Patrick answered him in that same cheerful monotone. “Try to keep calm, then, Nile.”

Nile tightened his grip on the man. “Why couldn’t we take the stairs like normal people?”

Patrick replied cheerfully. “Where would the fun in that be?”

Nile fought to keep his breathing even as Patrick went higher and higher.  _ Please, please, please _ . Patrick climbed to his window and opened it, tossing him in. Nile felt something small and metal hit him. He groped for it. The handcuff keys. Patrick went back out the window as he stared at the man. “Well, you can try to follow me if you want. But climbing down requires looking down.”

Nile unlocked his legs as Patrick started back out the window. “Have a nice day, Nile!”

Patrick slammed the window shut. Nile swore as he undid the handcuffs on his wrists. “Fuck.”

Alex’s relatives were all  _ fucking crazy _ . No wonder he ran away from home. Nile heard his phone ring. “Yes.”

It was Chase. “Where have you been and why haven’t you been answering the phone?”

Nile sighed. “So, you know Patrick Beckett?”

There was a pause. “ _ Yes _ .”

Nile sighed. “He, uh, kind of kidnapped me for like twelve hours.”

There was a pause. “Are you alright?”

Nile groaned. “Aside from mental trauma on par with Yassen,  _ Yassen _ , and a shitload of bruises, pretty much?”

Chase sighed over the phone. “ _ That man _ . Alright, take a few days to relax. Did he say why?”

Nile grunted. “Something, something. I’m on the same continent as his grandson?”

Chase sighed loudly over the phone. “He’s getting bitchy in his old age.”

Nile felt his breathing quicken. “You can say that again.”

Chase’s tone was gentler. “Get some rest, Nile.”

Nile sighed with relief as the man hung up. He dug up his first aid kit and decided to shower. Patrick hadn’t bothered removing his disguise before the car trip. It was lucky he brought spares.

* * *

Yassen had just received a package from Alex’s grandfather. It contained several books the family had written on child operatives and continuing into adulthood. The aliases were anagrams of people with last names the same as Alex’s father and mother. Yassen had read through and memorized them. He weighed the pros and cons of burning them. It was a pity, but he did not want the books to fall into, say, Doctor Three’s hands. Yassen had been mildly amused at Patrick’s note. Chase had not been best pleased with the news. In fact, the man was still in his living room. Yassen was a little annoyed at this point. He’d gotten this house to be away from his coworkers and bosses unless there was an emergency. Chase continued to pace, Yassen snapped his drawer shut. “Is there something you need, Mr. Chase?”

The man paused. “Sorry. I guess I’m wondering why Beckett picked Nile instead of you.”

Yassen shrugged. “It was probably a mixture of factors. Nile is younger and more impressionable than I am. I have nearly a decade of experience with operations. Nile has about three. He technically outranks me, so it looks more impressive from the outside. Also, Nile is more likely to interact with someone who handcuffs him than I am.”

Chase sighed. “Fair enough.”

Yassen arched a brow. “The real question is why you’re asking me questions that you already know the answer to.”

Chase’s eyes narrowed. “You occasionally have some unique insights.”

Yassen sat back. Chase would tell him if he wanted to. “Why is my second-in-command having such a bad year?”

Yassen shrugged. “Perhaps his youth and lack of impulse control are working against him.”

Chase’s eyes found his. “Oh, really?”

Yassen looked back at the man with his usual deadpan. “Yes.”

Chase sighed. “You know I could shoot you for that, right?”

Yassen arched a brow at the man. “If someone was going to shoot me for my commentary on Nile, they would have done it by now.”

Chase seemed to back off. “What were you two arguing about?”

Yassen looked at the man. “It matters little, as the disagreement is settled now.”

Chase sighed. “That’s not what I’m asking.”

Yassen narrowed his eyes. “It was a personal matter.”

Chase sighed. “Fine. I guess I’ll only hear Nile’s side of the story.”

Yassen knew manipulation when he heard it. “We were arguing over my candidate for an apprenticeship. I found him,  _ he’s mine _ .”

Chase coughed. “I thought you were sharing.”

Yassen smirked. “Think of it as me having primary custody.”

Chase shook his head. “You had better not fight over this.”

Yassen shrugged. “If we do, it would not be I who started it.”

Chase left.

* * *

Patrick Beckett was not a nice man. He’d taken great joy in bullying the shit out of Nile. The climb had been entirely deliberate. He did his research before meeting people. Levi Kroll still owed him favors, although Patrick had been mildly suspicious that the man hadn’t “charged” him for this one. Then again, once upon a time, Levi Kroll had been a student of his. Thankfully, that had been before he’d developed his anti-SCORPIA style. Levi had once asked him for Helen’s hand in marriage. Patrick had said that it was her choice and Helen had turned him down, albeit gently. Patrick was now having lunch with the man. “I am truly sorry about Helen. John not so much, but she was something.”

Patrick sighed. Levi wasn’t the subtlest. There was something he wanted. “Your grandson, Alex, what is he like?”

Patrick frowned. “Stubborn, determined, ferociously proud, and not at the same time.”

Levi arched a brow. “Sounds like someone I know.”

Patrick’s eyes narrowed. “No insult meant.”

Levi sighed with relief as he relaxed ever slightly. “I’m curious, though.” Patrick looked at the man. “Relax, Beckett. I know that if your precious grandson dies, you’ll go psycho on all our asses.”

Patrick leaned back in his chair. “Quite right.”

Levi chuckled. “He could have been my son. If things had been different.”

Patrick gave the man a look. “Did you not even try with other women?”

Levi shrugged. “I did before I got this.”

He ran his hand along with the scarring on one side of his face. Patrick shrugged. “You could probably find a wife now.”

Kroll shook his head. “Brendan Chase might be content with a trophy that may or may not kill him, but I want someone who loves me.”

Patrick shrugged. “Good luck with that, Levi. Your position in life doesn’t make that easy.”

Kroll's eyes narrowed. “No need to rub it in. We are not in drill any longer.”

Patrick snorted. “I’ve never been known to mince words.”

Kroll sighed. “That is why I trust you. That, and you are a family man.”

Patrick snorted. “You don’t trust anyone.”

Levi smirked. “Neither do you.”

Patrick sighed. “Why am I here, anyway?”

Kroll arched a brow. “I can’t just want lunch?”

Patrick leveled a stare at the man. “Fine. Fine. I needed a standing appointment to ditch one of my colleagues.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “You always were a petulant brat.”

Levi rolled his eyes. “You are over a hundred years old, gramps.”

Patrick narrowed his eyes. “Besides, the issue is mostly taken care of. Your grandson saw to that. Alec Pierre is a touch obvious for an alias. Not that I planned to break it to Chase.”

Patrick sighed. “I’ll talk with him.”

Kroll’s eyes danced. “Please don’t. Watching Kurst tantrum was the most fun I've had in years.”

Patrick smirked. “Then why are you avoiding lunch with him?”

Levi sighed. “He might flip the table. And I refuse to ally with him after this little episode.”

Patrick rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t want to be banned from the only good Kosher restaurant in Italy, I suppose.”

Patrick moved to pay the bill. Kroll caught his hand. “I’m richer than you now.”

Patrick grabbed the bill with his other hand. “That’s what you think.”

Levi was left wondering which assets he’d missed after Patrick left the restaurant.

* * *

Tom Card was not a man who was pleased to hear that Lance had gone on an unauthorized outing with a child that SCORPIA had targeted. The man had been promptly summoned to his office. “Hi, Boss.”

Tom Card snapped. “Don’t “Hi, Boss” me! Do you have an idea of how risky that was?! Xander could have been killed! Or worse, taken alive! Do you know what Doctor Three does to CIA agents who are captured?!”

Lance held up his hand. “Look, Boss, we took precautions. Besides, the kid needed a day off or he was gonna have a mental breakdown.”

Card snarled. “He could have had that day off in the base! Where we have guards!”

Lance glared at the man. “What kind of life is that?! What kind of life is that where you take away everything worth living? It’s the small things, you know.”

Card glared at the man. “I never should have put you in charge of a child, you irresponsible asshole!”

Lance glared. “I think I’m doing well.”

Card growled. “If you call spreading your blatant gender stereotyping, getting a kid drunk, and then teaching a kid how to fly an airplane responsible, I’ve got some bad news for you.”

Lance snapped. “Do you want a real person or a child assassin?! You can’t have it both fucking ways! At least this way he’ll have some fun before he dies a miserable death on a pointless mission for the CIA!”

Card snapped. “Get out!”

Lance retorted. “Gladly!”

The door slammed behind him. Card out his head in his hands. Damn it, Larry. He normally didn’t like the man. Sometimes he had a point. The guilt sometimes ate at him. It was probably going to be one of those nights. Larry aka Lance was one of the best assassins they ever had. Sure, nearly nobody stationed in a shit hole was innocent of killing someone, but Larry was a whole different level. Card sincerely doubted it was the man’s real name, but that was how his mentor had signed him up. Larry, it was. The man had to switch names a few times due to political issues in the CIA and other places. Card tended to use the names interchangeably. He tilted back and considered. Alex was interesting. Card would never admit to having a soft spot for the kid. Alex resembled his children at that age so much it hurt. His wife had divorced him and his children no longer spoke to him. They were grown now. Card sighed and decided to reach for his scotch now. It was one of those nights.

* * *

Alex woke up in the dream world opposite Grim. “I told you that I’m not speaking with you.”

Grim glared. “The summer solstice is coming.”

Alex sighed. “And I'm supposed to care, why?”

Grim looked at him. “I’m going to give you the memories on the solstice.”

Alex blinked. “I thought you already did?”

Grim gave him the side-eye. “You’d know this if you studied the rituals, but no. This is why you’re getting these memories. The orb I fed in your last dream was a piece of my power. This is why you can absorb thousands of memories not your own. Ordinarily, your mind would pop like a grape underfoot.”

Alex sighed. “Why the summer solstice and not the winter solstice?”

Grim glared. “This is why I’m force-feeding you these memories, punk. The winter solstice is used for destructive purposes only. You know, cursing your enemies, sucking the life out of people, making poisons so nasty they’re literally from hell. That kind of thing. Anything instructive, constructive, or healing goes during the summer solstice. Which you would know. If that dipshit Ian was smart. You’re lucky Fate decided to ritually enhance you when you were seven, otherwise, I’d have to feed you energy for two years for this.”

Alex stared at Grim. “Why is Ian so against all of this?”

Grim sighed. “He never really did like the mystical shit. Too much restrictive dieting for rituals. Blah. Blah. He had a bad run-in with his chosen deity. Plus, his dad made him do several rites. Honestly, he tries to ignore stuff that resembles a religion, mostly due to his experiences infiltrating radicalized cells in the middle east.”

Alex squinted. “I feel like there’s something people are not telling me.”

Grim smirked. “You would be right. Sadly, it’s not my place to tell you these things.”

Alex sat back. “Oh, c’mon, Grim.”

Grim sighed. “No.”

Alex sighed. “Why am I here, if the stuff is on the solstice?”

Grim sighed. “Rituals need a specific time  _ and  _ a specific place. Also, you’ll need to try to avoid consuming certain food as much as possible.”

Alex squinted. “What do I need to do?”

Grim sighed. “You need to find a special waterfall. Your pet will help you.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “And what about the food?”

Grim smirked. “Your wolf will eat anything you're not supposed to.”

Alex glared. “That doesn’t sound healthy for him.”

Grim glared. “Bitch, you have a hellhound. Fluffy little Fenrir could eat pure poison and he’d be fine after a few days.”

Alex blinked. “Aren’t hellhounds supposed to breathe fire?”

Grim snarled. “Not the young ones, you idiot.”

Alex crossed his arms. “Hey, I’m not the one who decided to keep me ignorant.”

Grim seemed to calm down. “Sorry. I’m not exactly...mentor material.”

Grim approached him. There was a black marble in hand. Alex sighed.

* * *

The solstice was upon him before he knew it. Alex had been distracted between Fenrir stealing his food and organizing how to sneak out without his four overprotective adults stopping him. Fenrir gave him another look. Alex really couldn’t tell the difference between which food and what he was and wasn’t supposed to eat. Fenrir seemed to have that covered. “If this keeps up, we’re going to do another round of obedience training.”

Fenrir pouted. Alex’s tone was entirely belied by the grin on his face. Abigail seemed amused. “It’s more convincing when you’re not grinning like a loon.”

Alex rubbed his “dog”. “I think he’s just anxious because I’m a bit off.”

Abigail smiled. “Where did you get him?”

Alex sighed. “I found him as a stray in an alleyway.”

Abigail tried to pet Fenrir and was expertly dodged. “Sorry, he’s not good with strangers and touching.”

Fenrir let out a whiney noise. “I know, I know. You want a walk.”

Fenrir let out a happy yip. “I have class for the next few hours, fluffball.”

Fenrir flung himself on the floor and let out a loud whine. “Dog.”

Fenrir continued. “Dog.”

Alex glanced around to do a temperature check of the room. All of the adults just seemed amused. “Dog.”

Fenrir looked at Alex. “What do you want?”

Fenrir huffed. “Bacon?”

Fenrir glared. “Extra dinner?”

Fenrir let out an angry yip. “More walk time?”

Fenrir popped up and suddenly looked happy again. “This is extortion, dog.”

Fenrir sat on his feet. “Fine, fine, I’ll take you out for longer, you fluffy rat.”

Fenrir let out a happy yip and promptly scurried off. Kenneth opened his mouth. “Not a word.”

The man blinked. “I didn’t say anything.”

Alex raised an eyebrow. “You were thinking about it.”

Kenneth rolled his eyes. “Getting moody, are we?”

Alex gave the man a deadpan look. “How do you know I haven’t always been like this?”

Kenneth retorted. “Don’t worry, Xany, I’m here if you want a shoulder to cry on.”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Fuck you, Ken.”

Kenneth grinned. “There’s the Xander we know and love.”

Alex sighed. “I’d punch you, but I want dessert for the next month.”

Kenneth patted his head. “There, there. Eventually, you’ll go through puberty and be allowed to spar with the big kids.”

Alex grumbled something under his breath. It was time for evening classes. He was not looking forward to Card’s class. He always felt slightly guilty any time the man called on him or praised him. God, this was awful. It said a lot that he didn’t like about his dad if his dad had been cut out and chosen for this sort of thing. Card kept him after class. “You seem to be feeling guilty.”

Alex felt his heart jump. He fought down a choking sensation. “I feel guilty that I’ve caused so much trouble. You know, the whole Nile thing.”

Card blinked. “Look, kid, it’s not your fault some psycho from SCORPIA decided to stalk you. They’re all sick in the head, just trust me on that one.”

Alex blinked and forced back the choking sensation. “I...just feel like...maybe if I had...said or done something different-”

Card cut him off. “Kid, let me tell you something. Whatever happens, whatever this motherfucker decides to do, it’s all on him. There’s nothing you did or said that made him do this. You told him to go away, right?”

Alex blinked. “Yeah, I even told him I’d shoot him in the ass.”

Card blinked. “See? Not your fault. He’s the one not respecting your boundaries.”

Card grabbed his shoulder. “I know you feel responsible. Try not to focus on it.”

Alex was almost unable to speak. “Thank you.”

He walked out the door.

* * *

Ms. Davis drew in a shuddering breath. So far, there was no record of the supposedly graduated students. Nothing. Not a one. There were dead ones. Davis rubbed her eyes. There were a few short entries in newspapers about deaths. Ms. Davis had eventually found them all in county death records. It was never more than three years after they graduated. Three years of freedom. As far as she could tell, none of them had gone to the press or done anything to warrant execution. She sighed and felt her head fall to the desk. How could they have all been so blind? Goddamn Card, goddamn him to hell. She sighed as she considered her options. Davis briskly returned the files at two in the morning. She was an adult and she had earned the right to no bedtime. In the elevator, she almost ran into Lance. “What are you still doing up?”

The man blinked. “I could ask you the same question.”

Davis sighed. “I finished looking through some old files.”

Lance looked at her more sharply. “Find anything interesting.”

Davis pursed her lips. “I found reviewing the past enlightening.”

Lance arched a brow. “I see.”

Davis looked at him. “And you?”

Lance blinked. “Xander is missing. He left a note saying he had to perform some sort of family religious ritual. Look at the bullshit note!”

Ms. Davis glanced at the note. “How remarkably unhelpful.”

Lance grumbled. “Little shit did that on purpose.”

Ms. Davis gave the man an unamused look. “I’m sure it’s important to him. Religion is central in some people’s lives, Lance.”

Lance huffed. “He could have at least let us come with him.”

Ms. Davis sighed. “Lance, do you know what day it is?”

The man looked at her. “Yeah, I’m not on a bender.”

Ms. Davis rolled her eyes. “It’s the summer solstice, you dolt. Which means he’s probably a pagan. Some pagan rituals are performed partially or fully nude.”

Lance made a face. “I mean, I’d put up with that shit. There is a killer after him. I’d rather have a few weeks of awkward silence than him murdered in the woods just because he doesn’t wanna be seen in the buff.”

Ms. Davis rolled her eyes. “Yes, Lance. That’s not how a teenager views it, though.”

Lance blinked. “He’s twelve?”

Ms. Davis rolled her eyes. “Don’t be pedantic.”

Lance sighed. “Sorry.”

Ms. Davis grunted. “You know, you’re not nearly as bad as I thought you would be.”

Lance gave her a flat look. “Thanks. Thanks so much.”

Davis sighed. Lance turned to look at her. “What?!”

Lance blinked. “Are you in or out?”

Ms. Davis blinked. “In.”

Lance glanced at her. “Wanna come by our place and wait for the kid?”

Ms. Davis was amused. “Why not?”

* * *

Alex let out a sigh as he slid silently in through the window. Fenrir was being surprisingly cooperative, but Alex had his suspicions that his pet was far smarter than the average wolf. Fenrir slid in after him as Alex silently slid the window shut. His muscles were on fire and his head felt like one of the many times someone had tried to cave it in. Alex stripped out of his clothes and heaved himself onto the bed. He’d try to sort through the memories later. Alex had just gotten himself under the cover when Lance walked in and flicked on the lights. “Oh, fuck me.”

Lance blinked. “You’re not my type.”

Alex blinked. “Am I in trouble?”

Lance smirked. “Yes.”

Alex groaned into his pillow. “Can we talk about this in the morning?”

Lance looked at the kid. “It’s in the morning! Four in the morning, to be exact!”

Alex swore into his pillow. “Go away and lecture me in mentorship hour, please.”

Lance huffed. “Fiiine.”

Alex was thankful when Lance left him alone and shut the lights off. Fenrir climbed into bed next. “Dog.”

The wolf ignored him and draped himself almost entirely on top of Alex. Fenrir huffed and licked his face. “Fenrir.”

The wolf’s eyes met his. The golden ochre color of the wolf’s eyes was oddly comforting. “ _ Go to sleep, dog. _ ”

It came out in Ancient Greek. Well, he would deal with that later. Alex leaned into the dog and fell asleep.


End file.
